A Prinkle in Time
by LiPgLoSs aNd LeTdOwN
Summary: Unspeakable Hermione Granger is fed up with people accusing her of being boring, and commenting on her seemingly lacking sense of humor. After returning from a trip to America on official business, she agrees to make one product to help George get back on track after the loss of his twin... one product with some rather unforeseen, not to mention far reaching, consequences.
1. Preface/ Good to the Last Drop

Chapter 1.a.- Preface

When she had been in school, Hermione Granger was good. No, she didn't always follow the rules like she would have wanted to, but she always did everything to the best of her abilities, and for good reasons.

When she fought, she fought for the underdogs, and the underserved people of the world. She did so with a passion, no, a ferocity that was legendary.

When she finished one thing, she started something new. Once again, driving forward at full speed.

The ink had barely dried on her Hogwarts diploma when she began working at the ministry of magic. Hermione hadn't even fully made her office her own when she was dragged into the bowels of the building and inducted as the youngest Unspeakable on record.

She took to it like a fish to water. After all Hermione Granger was good at a lot of things, but she was the best at research, and figuring out the tougher bits of problems. As Ron had said years ago, she's scary, but brilliant.

Ms. Granger, in her capacity as an Unspeakable, had worked on many projects up to this point. This current one, however, was her passion. Time. Studying it, changing it, bending it, shaping it. Potentially even re-shaping it. Just, figuring it out in general. The properties and basics of time were, after all, one of the very few truly unknown things left in the world.

To the little girl who went 11 years thinking she was a muggle before being introduced to magic at large, this thought brought about all the same feelings of wonder as that discovery had. And it was amazing.

Her work took her to Asia, Africa, Europe... well, all over, really. Most recently, Hermione had traveled to America to speak to the Unspeakable department there about some discoveries she had made by combining the current knowledge of the sands of time, with some of Dumbledore and Nicholas Flamel's work on alchemy. Notes that she had come across while going through the estate Dumbledore had left to Harry, and that Nicholas had left to his friend Albus upon the destruction of the Philosophers Stone, and his subsequent passing.

Such a shame the work had to be destroyed... physically, at least. Thankfully the ever resourceful Ms. Granger knew how to use her mind. Literally. She had read every bit of every journal, every note in every margin, and all the spare scraps of parchment and letters of correspondence that she could get her hands on. Then, she went home, and bottled these memories. Yes, Hermione was good at following rules these days. She was also good at reading between the lines of such rules. Loopholes do make the world go round.

She used this knowledge to figure out how the sands of time themselves could potentially be multiplied, and various ways they could probably be altered using Alchemy to achieve different results, the only problem was that the few remaining time turners were out of her reach at the moment. The MoM's had been destroyed in the war, after all. And no one was willing for her to purposefully break a working time turner on a "potential", yet thus far unproven, hunch.

The only place that had sands of time, already outside of a time turner, was the Magical Congress of the United States of America. And so, that was where she went. There, she found, Hermione Granger was not so much of a war hero that she had to be constantly hounded for autographs, or asked how she was really doing. Her feelings on any given subject weren't pressed for, picked apart, and splashed all over the newspaper. She could fade into anonymity easily. And it was just what she needed.

It had been a solid few months of research before homesickness set in. A solid few months of Pringle's and Snickers bars for quick sustenance, in between being drug out to see the real world by the few Unspeakables she came into contact with, and immensely huge breakthroughs in the newly created field of time magic. Kingsley was even considering making a new department at the ministry because of it, because of her! The Department of Time, with her as it's head!

And so, with plenty of time to spare—well, sands of time at least—Unspeakable Granger found herself returning to England, ready to set off on her next adventure. But even the best laid plans can go awry, or so they say.

Chapter 1.b.- Good to the Last Drop

Her mind was full, her hands were full, her eyes were now full— of her hair! While it had calmed down over the last few years, international floo connections had a way of bringing out the worst in her curls. The frizz that resulted was nearly unbearable!

Hermione stumbled forward, dropping her things unceremoniously at her feet. She held her arms out in front of herself to make sure she didn't collide with anything, or anyone. It was so quiet she guessed she was alone in the atrium, although she really didn't know what time it was at the moment, so it could just be a brief moment of calm before the next storm of activity. She really needed to right herself, and quickly! "Ugh, where did I put my wand?!", the former Gryffindor huffed, running her hands over the normal resting places for the missing object, finding it tangled hopelessly in the nest that her hair had become. Of course that's where it was! She huffed again.

"Her-Hermione?! Is your hair finally trying to eat you instead of anyone else? Haven't you been feeding it properly?" A decidedly male voice guffawed. Ron. She'd know that lack of tact and decorum anywhere.

Rolling her eyes, and stomping a foot in irritation she opened her mouth to respond waspishly to her friend turned boyfriend, turned ex-boyfriend, turned back to friend. "Ronald!— Don't just—" she was cut off by the fact that suddenly she could see again, and her wand was in her hand. She had been mid-struggle though, and as such her balance was thrown off by the lack of resistance, and she found herself pitching over sideways with a gasp.

Quickly squeezing her eyes shut, she braced for impact with the cold marble floor. With an oomph she landed, although it wasn't as cold, or as hard of a landing as she had imagined. It was almost... warm? Daring a peek she was confronted with crinkled green eyes, dancing with laughter. "Well hello Mione! Look, Ron, even she's falling all over me. Always knew I was handsome!"

"Harry!" She turned and threw her arms around her dark haired friend, "Sorry for falling all over you! Maybe America has turned me into a fan girl for the boy-who-lived!" She made a kissy face and lunged toward him playfully. Laughter suddenly gone, his eyes widened comically and his mouth fell open. She relented, laughing, "Kidding, Harry. Nice wordless casting by the way! Been practicing?"

He chuckled, "Just a bit. It's still pretty hit or miss, apparently it's better with motivation though. You know me and my hero complex!" Harry was silently checking her over, she had been gone a long while and had a tendency to stop caring for herself when she got wrapped up in her projects. He nodded, apparently through with his appraisal, and satisfied with his findings. "I'm impressed Herms, you're dressed properly, and it appears you managed to both bathe and eat during your research trip!"

She stuck her tongue out in response, "Oh, look who found some jokes! Funny, boy wonder." A quick tempus confirmed it was indeed the end of the day. "Fancy a drink boys? I'm parched!"

Without sparing a glance back, she shrunk her trunk, shoving it in her pocket while stooping to pick up her dragon hide purse, and waltzed off towards the ministry's apparition point.

The boys shared a brief "what's got into her?!" look, before scrambling to catch up. Moments later they found themselves in Diagon Ally, being dragged towards, and into the Leaky, and squished into a corner booth in the back of the busy pub.

Hermione was almost vibrating with energy, her mouth was opening and closing like she had so much to say, but couldn't figure out where to start. "Good trip?", Harry had decided to take pity on her, aiming to give a bit of direction to her obviously busy mind.

She smiled brightly. "Yes! Oh, Harry, it was amazing!" She grinned, before looking saddened "There's so much I can't tell you! But... oh, uhm, I should be able to replace what was destroyed in the battle, and more! The notes we found in were invaluable, and I made some new... things... to work on. New types of the old things. Is this making any sense?" This Unspeakable thing was harder than it seemed to be. It was a struggle to explain what she knew without breaking her oath, and the boys absolutely hated being in her workspace after the war, so she tried not to drag them down there.

"Uh, kind of? Wait... yes!" Harry laughed. His friend was amusing.

Ron, however, wasn't amused. He never did get their female counterparts ambition. Which is probably why they fizzled out pretty fast as a romantic pair. "Ok, we get it, you have doo-dads and what's it aplenty! Can you not talk about work for once? Do you even know how to have actual fun?!"

She cringed. That hadn't taken very long. However she had expected it, and therefore didn't get hurt by his outburst. Brushing most of his statement off as rhetorical, she instead rolled her eyes before responding. "I missed you too Ronald. How's the shop?"

He had taken to helping out with his brothers joke shop, after one half of the pair of twins had gone missing during the final battle, presumed dead but no direct evidence. The Weasley family still held out hope for his reappearance, but were begrudgingly accepting the likelihood of his demise. "George is still... you know..." he sighed, "he's so used to working with Fred to make new products, that he... well, we have nothing new to offer and the customers are starting to express their displeasure."

Hermione nodded sadly. She had taken few shots of firewhisky since they arrived, and she was just coming to realize it was a bit stronger than the shots she had become used to in the states. This could be a good thing, or a very bad thing. Depending on what came out of her mouth next. "I could help—" she broke off into a sudden yawn. And suddenly there existed an intense flare of excitement in her red headed friends eyes. Uh oh, bad thing! Bad thing, retreat! It was too late though, before she could finish with the " talk to him" she had been trying to add, her friend had tackled her in a hug.

"Really?! Oh Mione I take back every thing I've ever said about you and your work, and your hair and your... uh, never mind, anyway— George would be so excited he would forget to mope for a bit! We always knew she was the best, right Harry?" He nudged Harry, who had been worriedly studying Hermione, with his elbow.

Sure he saw the terror in her face, but unwilling to publicly call her out for it. Harry just shook his head reassuredly, and told her sincerely that it would be great for George.

"Well... ok then! Yay!...?" Hermione dropped her head to the table. She promised herself right then and the that she was never drinking firewhisky again. "So, uh, I should— go? Harry? Headed back to Grimmauld?"

He chucked, then took pity on her. "Yeah, yeah. Catch up in a few days, Ron? Let this one readjust to... life in good old England!" The redhead nodded his agreement with a laugh, before apparating back to the flat he shared with George, to presumably tell him of this new development.

"What did I just do? Oh Merlin, Harry! Stupid Firewhisky!" She worried. He just laughed, and drew her into a side hug, saying "It'll be ok, you know you have plenty of ideas laying around. Just throw the poor boy a bone, it'll be ok!"

"For George..." she reassured herself, throwing a nod to her companion. That settled he apparated them home, where she promptly passed out in the room she had claimed as her own. Her last thought before sleep claimed her was that she really needed to update the decor, there was way too much... Slytherin... in this room.


	2. Of Potions and Consequences

Chapter Two-

Of Potions and Consequences.

If she had remembered her last thought from the night before, waking up wouldn't have been so nightmarish. As it was, the first thing that niggled at her, was the feeling that a troll was sitting on her head. This, accompanied by the percussion,that she later realized may actually have been the sound of her heart beating... loudly. Yes, now she was sure of it, she was never drinking firewhisky again.

Hermione didn't want to move at all, but in order to find the potion she needed, she had to find her bag. She had the sinking suspicion that in order to do that, she would have to open her eyes.

One eye squinted open, confirming the presence of just enough light to make the troll on her head dance in glee, and cause her to slam her eye shut again. Maybe it would be better if she shielded her squint with her hand, to block out the obnoxious daylight.

That worked well enough to take in her surroundings, at which point she deduced that the room was spinning. Green and silver, swirled around her, like a nightmare carnival ride! Complete with garish depictions of snakes, seemingly floating through the air. She had managed to sit up, only to lose her balance due to the obnoxiously slick, black silk sheets, and fall into an undignified heap on the floor.

Luck would have it that she landed right next to her dragonhide purse. Fate would have it that she landed right on top of her wand. Well, at least now she knew it's location.

She would never tell one Ronald Weasley that she woke up and removed her wand from her backside one morning. She'd never live it down.

Summoning a hangover potion made from Sirius and Remus' own, well tested, recipe, Hermione gulped it down greedily before sliding down to lie on the floor as it worked its magic.

The room had just stopped spinning as the pounding on the door began. "Mione! You up?" Harry whisper yelled, from the other side. She wondered why he bothered whispering, what with the pounding and all.

"Yes, Harry. I'm up, but if I wasn't, then I would be now!" She called back, attempting to get off the floor before he came barging in. Brothers! Maybe he wasn't hers by blood, but he was hers all the same.

And barge in he did! Then promptly joined her on the floor, laughing so hard he was shaking. "W-What are we doing down here?!" He guffawed.

She rolled her eyes. "I have not the slightest clue what you're doing down here, I'm sure. I was just... retrieving my dignity...? — ok, okay...I needed a hangover potion and fell out of the bed, don't laugh at me Mister!"

To Harry's credit, he really did try not to laugh. She just looked so... different! He couldn't help it. Hermione was always put together, always the strong one. Seeing her feeble attempt to scramble back into her "proper" persona, bed head, yesterday's clothes and all, before he could see was just too much.

He could tell she was embarrassed though, so he decided to have some mercy. "Anyway," He began, rubbing the back of his neck, "We both know Ron has no concept of time, so I wanted to come and make sure you were prepared for that whole, thing... and Kingsley's floo called three times already, so you should probably see what's up with that soon. Not to mention that it's already almost 10 a.m."

To her credit, she didn't panic like she would have when they were in school. She managed to stand up, smooth out her royal blue dress, and take off the black leather jacket she had liberated from Sirius' closet. She ran her wand over her head, using a newly mastered form of controlling her magic to ground her hair, before casting a simple detangling spell, and throwing it up in a knot with an elastic from her wrist.

Harry just stood there for a moment, until she began unbuttoning her dress, staring. "Uh," He stuttered, suddenly realizing that she was trying to get changed. "I'll just... breakfast!" Poor boy practically flew from the room.

Hermione chuckled, letting her dress fall to the floor. She didn't know how he managed to have an adult relationship with Ginny with reactions like that. He had seen her change before, they lived in a tent for a year, but he had never gotten over those silly reactions.

She selected a white shift dress, fastened a black belt around her waist, threw on a layered necklace and a couple bangles for good measure. Then, slinging the leather jacket over her shoulder and gathering her shoes and purse into her hands, she proceeded down to the kitchen to face the day.

————-

First thing first, Kingsley. Her patronus quickly swam off to tell the Minister to come through the floo at his earliest convenience, as she sat down opposite Harry to eat a fresh croissant and some berries. Moments later they heard the woosh of the floo, and the Minister himself came into the kitchen of the old Order Headquarters. "Well, isn't this like old times!" He said in lieu of a greeting.

"It is, indeed!" Hermione agreed, offering him some tea. "What's up Kings? Harry said you've been in the floo for a while." She joked.

The older man laughed heartily at her cheek, "I never thought I'd catch the great Hermione Granger having a lie in! Must have been some trip. How was America?" This man had become like a surrogate father to both Harry and Hermione, in the year since the war had ended. It was never vocalized, but they all knew it. He was proud of these two. "I hear some major developments have been made? Speak freely, please Hermione."

"I've got the clearance now," Harry gloated, grinning.

Well, that sure made things easier! Still, she tried to break it down to its easiest to digest level. "America was relaxing! Yes, I got a lot done, but I did so freely without looking over my shoulder. It was like a... vacation while working!" She started, "As you know Harry and I went through the remaining last effects of the Headmasters after the war and all the ceremonies.

He was good friends with the Flamel's, and had inherited their earthly possessions upon their passing.

There existed a lot of... records that we were requested to destroy, because they were too dangerous —should the general public get a hold of them."

His eyes had widened, slightly at that admission.

"You know me, the pursuit of knowledge is never ending. I was in charge of finding it all and deciding what was to that level of becoming a hazard should it fall in the wrong hands. Admittedly, most of it was, and thus it was destroyed after I read it."

Eyes wider yet, she continued regardless.

"In the process of, well, processing this information...I stumbled upon a great many things that I found had parallels to what I was studying at work, in the study of time. But I know you're aware of the subject of my studying by now.

Regardless, Albus and Nicholas were Alchemists. Some of the—if not the— best. I theorized that a lot of their work could also be applied to time rather than to physical objects.

Nicholas made the philosophers stone, you know. The stone that enabled him to make an elixir to practically stop time in so much as the aging of his body went.

My mind immediately went to the time turners and the sand housed within them. The physical manifestation of time itself. But all of ours were destroyed, and no one would let me break one to get to the sands, despite my theory of being able to produce more sands from existing sand."

At this she pulled a simple glass box, full of glittering gold sand, from her dragonhide purse. "This theory, I have since proved to be true, once the Americans gave me permission to work with their Unspeakables that were also studying time.

After I proved that, I selected a team of two and formed a research team for transmuting the sands... uh... changing them to make them do different things, using some of the Alchemical equations I had come by in Albus' research. We were able to make several different types." She pulled out seven more glass boxes.

Kingsley couldn't help it. His jaw was to the floor, and the teacup that had been halfway to his mouth was neatly smashed to oblivion on the kitchen floor. He still couldn't speak. He'd said it before, this witch was brilliant, but until this moment he had no idea just how brilliant. He couldn't even speak. Thankfully, Harry could. "Heh, they're color coded too! So Hermione... what do they do?"

She took a deep breath, suddenly nervous. The most powerful man in England was in the room looking at her like she was Merlin himself, with Medusa's hair. She wasn't sure if he was shocked in a good or bad way, or if it would be followed by a pat on the back, or a stint in Azkaban.

"Uh, so, the red one—" she couldn't do it, but she had to do it... steeling herself and assuming the Minister would have told her to stop had he been angry, she continued.

"Right, so the process that I thought would be white was actually the natural state of the sands before they turn gold, so there's a control to bring all of them back to normal.

the red one takes you forward in time a short distance. Orange is forward and to one side, it's hard to explain, green is sideways, either way to basically explore other options in time, or display alternate reactions to events. The blue one, slows time, so backwards and to the side. Indigo is a reversal, kind of like how the time turner works, but like your whole person, with no duplicate. Violet is the other way backwards to the side. I'm working on the plain yellow, to bring things back to their natural state, but it's proving to be a bit... tricky."

Once more she reached into her bag and, with shaking hands she drew out a small black box, and opened it to reveal a vial of glittering, pitch black sand.

"This," she whispered, almost afraid to speak it out loud, " is... well it's the opposite of time. It's not death, per se. It's worse.

Whatever is affected by the Black Sand, is ripped from time, gone. Just... wiped away. Like it simply... never existed."

Both men went white, the elder one gesturing her to put it away. Hermione complied, carefully, but quickly.

They sat there in silence for what felt like hours, each man stewing over what they had heard, the implications and possibilities running through their minds.

Eventually Kingsley ran a hand through his hair and the spell was broken, with a loud woosh of a sigh. "Hermione, your brilliance is... simply astounding." He declared.

Suddenly she sagged with relief and let go of the breath she had been unaware that she was holding.

"In the wrong hands, these could be... I can't even think of that... but you're certainly more than capable of controlling them." He stood and began pacing. "The President was telling me about some of the practical applications your team was working on over there, and I could hardly believe how it could have been possible. More reliable Chrystal balls? Without the need for a seer? Now I get it. You disproved the existence of alternate realities, and time loops as we thought they were.

Combining these tools with elixirs and spells to make hand held messaging possible to an extent that would stun the wizarding world. I look forward to the day I never have to stick my head in a fireplace for hours again!"

Hermione was getting more and more excited, the projects were popping up behind her eyes, and she couldn't wait to write them down in a list. Organized by priorities, of course. Just think, they could make Wizarding Cellular service possible! But instead of buying minutes in data over a network, you would buy actual minutes!

The Minister, however, could see that look in her eyes. And quickly brought her back to reality. "But Hermione, we need to do tests first. More, at least. Lots of them, and make a specific task force. I will, of course, appoint you as the head of the task force, and should it come to fruition, the Department of Time."

She nodded at every word, this was to be expected. "Of course, sir." She was just so excited, nodding along and spitting out agreements in a daze, until he got up, hugged her, and disappeared back through the floo.

"Uh, Hermione?" Harry's voice broke through the fog. "You did know what you were agreeing to just there didn't you?" He asked with a fond smile. Suddenly, she realized, she didn't.

Hermione shook it off, shrugging "He'll tell me tomorrow when I go in to work." At this Harry laughed in earnest.

"Of course he will, once he asks you if you were listening to him telling you all of this today." She blinked and he continued, " he said you deserve a raise, which you agreed to with a "yes, of course, sir!", oh and a nice long vacation on his dollar. Might I add you also agreed to that one, with by far my favorite response: "Definitely! I can see the necessity of that, sir!". Open ended too! Whenever he gets everything ready, he said, he will be in touch along the way."

The boy who lived to crack another joke, had tears of mirth running down his face, "at which point he noticed that you were in your own little happy dream world, so he took his leave!"

She was flabbergasted. Also, angry. But logic won out and she made the decision to put away the sands first, before she chased her brother from another mother through the house shooting tickling hexes and bat bogeys all the while. "Harry! You just let me sit there like an idiot!" She yelled, "Agreeing to everything he tried to work in there before I noticed?!".

And that was how they were discovered by two redheads that just happened to come through the floo in time to witness what, for all intents and purposes, appeared to be the apocalyptic end of the boy who lived.


	3. Decisively Indecisive

Chapter Three- Decisively Indecisive

They couldn't help it, they were shocked still. So they just stood there. At one point Ron summoned some popcorn, and they moved to the table as pandemonium continued all around them. George was just grinning at this point. He lived for prank wars, so this was right up his alley.

Harry was on the floor, rolling around laughing so hard he was having trouble breathing. Hermione was standing over him, fuming, with bubbles coming from her ears, attacking her. She was dripping from head to toe, covered in bubble juice, whatever it may be... although it appeared to be some strange combination of earwax and slime. Yet, she still managed to have her wand zeroed in on him. "Cancel it!" She demanded.

A fresh peal of laughter from the man on the ground. "You—ha haha hahaha—oh, you first!" Looking tough was hard from this position, but to his credit he did try quite valiantly.

She pouted, "I'm going to have to shower for a week! This will never come out of my hair, I have a hard enough time with soap! Ear bogeys! Really, Harry?" Hermione punctuated her displeasure with stomping her feet, "Couldn't have laughed after the correct pronunciation? Ginny will be thrilled you found another variation of her hex though..."

"She's not wrong, mate" Ron agreed, between mouthfuls. "Not that we aren't enjoying the show but, uh, what's going on?"

George started applauding as Harry quickly cast a finite to end Hermione's little problem. She followed suit, and he could finally breathe again. "I win, by the way." Hermione declared breathlessly, "Thank you Ronald!" Harry begrudgingly nodded her way, finding no use in starting another round of the battle, especially in front of company.

"I haven't been so amused in... well, forever! I should really come around more often." George proclaimed, casting a modified scourgify at the sticky mess that was Hermione. "Mom taught us a lot of random cleaning spells. We were just a little messy, you know." He explained.

She looked so relieved to be free of the slimy, yellow mess that it was almost comical. She ran towards the older redhead and enveloped him in one of her trademark, bruising hugs. "Oh, Bless you George! Please come save me from the mean bespectacled boy more often."

"Yes, yes. Please do remember those benevolent feelings when you think about this collaboration a little birdy told me about this morning." He laughed, truly, the corner of his eyes crinkling for the first time in recent memory.

She sighed and deadpanned, "Oh, if I must enjoy myself!", holding a hand to her head, and throwing her head back dramatically.

"Be still my beating heart!" He mimicked her actions, placing his hand above his heart, "Has our lovely Ms. Granger gone and grown a sarcastic streak?" He gasped.

The witch pulled a faux straight face and yelled, "Never!" To which resounding laughter was heard all around.

"But back to the crisis at hand. Apparently someone let me zone out in a meeting with Kingsley this morning, and I unknowingly agreed to a vacation. So it seems I've got time, now hit me with your best shot."

He gulped, running a hand through his red hair "uh... I thought maybe you'd have some ideas... I find myself fresh out lately..." a brief pause, "What have you been working on?"

"I can't... say?" She was really starting to hate this part of her job. "What about... no, the two way mirrors would be obsolete after I do the tests..." George just watched her pace, as the other two snuck out of the room to allow them some space. "I've been messing with some polyjuice to change single body parts... and pepper up...so far I've got one potion that changes your eye color and the other wakes up tired eyes. I've named them peeperjuice and peeper up."

"You really are brilliant, you know," He breathed, "we could have a whole line of Granger Danger products."

Hermione barked out a laugh. "Granger Danger?" She repeated questioningly," You may need to work on your naming abilities... regardless, I only signed on for one product, so you better make it count! I could be amenable to making you the sole distributor for my potions though. I've come up with quite a few along the way..."

"I bet you have," George conceded. "Ok so, backtracking why would the two way mirrors be obsolete?"

"Can't say, I'm afraid." She sighed again, "What about... I don't know... everyone says I have no sense of humor. Maybe the ultimate payback for doubting my abilities, in the form of a game?"

He looked surprised. This was a new side of his curly haired friend. "I'm listening. Like a prank? You know I love those!"

The curly haired witch looked thoughtful, playing with the necklace on her neck. "Yes," she paused, continuing slowly, "like... truth or dare... that the chosen players are compelled to complete...?" It was sounding a lot like that muggle movie Jumanji... not exactly why she was going for, but I'm sure they'd get it sorted out. "We could make a quick prototype and test it with ourselves... and, ugh they snuck off! Better idea, then, we should make it look like something innocent, then they get trapped into finishing the game!"

George was grinning from ear to ear, looking every bit like the cat that ate the canary. He never knew they'd rubbed off on this girl so much, but he had no plan to stop it. "Great!" He clapped her on the back, "I love it! Now, what do you have laying around that looks innocent that they'd want?"

Looking around he found a bottle of firewhisky, to which she vehemently shook her head. "Never again!" She muttered as he laughed, sensing a story there, but deciding not to pursue it. Suddenly her eyes lit up, and she darted to the kitchen, yelling "Pringle's!", he followed.

Hermione was already a full arm into her bag when he cleared his throat. "Sorry, to interrupt... whatever it is you're doing, but what is a Pringle? Also, why is your bag eating you?" He laughed.

She quickly withdrew her body from the purse and shook her head, embarrassed. "Right, sorry. Uh..." she waved her wand, and summoned the cylindrical object from the depths within. "These," she gestured to the item," are Pringle's. They're a type of American crisp that I fell in love with on my trip. And they have a truly catchy slogan. 'Once you pop, the fun don't stop' always gets stuck in my head. Oooh!" She gasped, while opening the can, and pulling back the plastic to show him the neat stack of crisps. "We could enchant that phrase on the top and whoever read it aloud would initiate the game! Then each crisp would have a compulsion on them and we could put different truths or dares on each...!"

George looked positively gleeful! He grabbed the top and got to work, waving his wand over the plastic piece, spells she had never heard of creating a lovely light show on the countertop below them. "This is going to be— epic!," He chuckled. Hermione nodded enthusiastically, splitting the stack of crisps in half, and showing him the compulsion charm she had in mind. They worked in silence, enchanting each crisp with looks of glee in their eyes. Only breaking the peace to run ideas off each other, ensuring the game didn't get too out of hand. Once done, and throughly satisfied with their work, they carefully placed the edible game pieces back into the container. "We will need to figure out what to use for our production version, but something similar to these would be great. I can already picture a whole line of WWW Granger Danger party games!"

"George! No!" Hermione exclaimed, "I will not have you mocking my name like that! I know it rhymes but... it's..." she broke off, exasperated.

He laughed, "I like it, it's very catchy." Still shaking her head, she grabbed their creation and went out to find their two missing companions. If he called it that she would never live it down! She couldn't even think about that right now.

Down the hall, the sound of an argument broke the silence. Quidditch statistics, it sounded like. At least they weren't anywhere near Walberga's portrait. Too bad they couldn't trick that into a game of truth or dare. Hermione giggled to herself as she pictured the bitter portrait being forced to don even the barest of smiles. She would probably break herself, and end up a pile of dust in the entryway.

Continuing on, the honey eyed beauty, and the scarlet haired gentleman rounded the corner and their compatriots came into sight. They sat down, completely unnoticed, and she took the opportunity to place the container of crisps on the table between herself and their unknowing victims, er, test subjects.

———

"How would that even work, Ron? They're the worst in the league this year! They'd have to win every game left in order to make it to the finals!—oh! Hermione, George!" Harry finally noticed their presence, and turned to them, "Any luck?"

Hermione chuckled, "Us? It sounds like you're the one who needs luck—to get out of this conversation! We were just in time George, weren't we?" Her older friend nodded in agreement, just as his younger brother noticed their little project.

"Once you pop, the fun don't stop.—" Ron read, "What are these?" He questioned, failing to notice the subtle green glow that flashed over the container. Opening the canister, his face lit up, "Crisps! Oh, good, I'm half starved and dinner is ages away!" Shoving one into his mouth, he passed the container to his best mate, who also took one of the proffered items.

Only after he ate his crisp, did Hermione open her mouth to speak. "They're Pringle's, I brought them back from America. Do you like them?" She asked innocently.

He tried to speak, Ron did, but he just couldn't do it, instead when he opened his mouth a wail came out. Accompanied by big, fat crocodile tears. "I love them so much!" He finally managed, between sniffles. "I just hate that there's so few of them! Oh no! We are going to run out, then we'll starve!" 'Of course, Ron would get the piece making him over dramatic.' She thought.

"Going on what's?!" Harry questioned, raising his eyebrows as he heard himself speak. "Me to—This did you, Hermione?"

The creators were beaming, and laughing so hard that nothing was even coming out of their mouths, but gasping breaths for air.

George grabbed a crisp, and popped it in his mouth, saluting Hermione. "Well done, my turn!" He began to mime, and mimic what appeared to be Draco Malfoy, puffing out his chest and mouthing "my father will hear about this!" Repeatedly.

Still laughing, Hermione shrugged and joined in. "Take another Ronald, it'll cancel this one and start a new one." She said before popping her crisp in her mouth.

"Oh Hermione! Thank you! You're just the best—" Ron started, reaching for another crisp. "You've always been so pretty, I just love what you've done with your hair lately. And that dress—!" He sighed dramatically, "Beautiful!" Then he bit into his next crisp.

Hermione, meanwhile was singing everything she was trying to say, in children's nursery rhymes. She was trying to summon some tea from the kitchen, but only accomplished singing "I'm a little teapot" into her wand, before getting up to retrieve the beverage the old fashioned way.

When she returned, Ron was professing his undying love for Lavender Brown, who he had become reacquainted with recently, in the form of Shakespearian sonnets. One of Hermione's truth pieces. She smiled at the look of humiliation on his face, as he shoved another crisp into his mouth post haste.

Harry, on the other hand was hopping around on one foot in various patterns, while yelling out the shapes he was making. He had to act out and name at least 4 before he could put another crisp in his mouth.

George was dared to kiss the person to his left, Ron, while Ron's card demanded he not let anyone within 3 feet of himself for 3 minutes, so they were running around, one trying to get closer and one trying to get further away.

Suddenly Hermione became aware that this was the most fun she had had in ages! She went to say it aloud, but only managed to get out the first line of "Ring around the Rosie", before shoving another crisp in her mouth to end her dilemma. She immediately wished she didn't when "Professor Snape was my favorite teacher!" Rushed out the next time her mouth was opened. Ugh. Her piece, her fault.

Nobody heard the sound of the floo activate, or saw the person staring at their antics before going to get backup, but suddenly their test group multiplied when Ginny, Lavender, and Luna, accompanied by Neville and Seamus, decided that they needed a piece of the action. They too got sucked into the game.

After the last crisp was distributed, Ginny was wearing Harry's clothes and vise versa, Seamus had Luna on his shoulders after they pretended to be a troll, Neville and Ron were fake sword fighting with umbrellas, Lavender was blushing after revealing that she had become a closet bibliophile. Meanwhile, George was in the hall, stroking the hairs on the troll foot umbrella stand, and repeatedly proclaiming it was the softest thing he had ever felt, and a horrified Hermione was quoting quidditch statistics, while rushing to put the top back onto the container and end the spell.

All at once, everything stopped, and the group of friends looked, wide eyed, at each other trying to figure out just what was going on. George, in a bid to break the silence, yelled out the first thing he could think of: "Granger Danger!" and once again everyone was laughing.

Harry was the first one to speak, "that was hilarious, maddening too, but—" Ron interrupted and finished his sentence, "What WAS that?! Do muggle prinkles always do that?"

"Prinkles!" George yelled, "that's what we will call them."

Ron looked astonished, and saddened beyond words, while pathetically stating the obvious, "You spelled my crisps?"

"They were my crisps Ronald," Hermione corrected, "and yes, you always say I have no sense of humor—so George and I came up with this little magical party game."

"I feel so violated!" Ron bemoaned, as everyone else gathered around to express their love of this new game.

Said game had lasted several hours though, and yawns were starting to pop up all around, so everyone decided to head back home in short order. Hermione and George were the last two by the floo. The redhead took his leave after agreeing that they needed to get together the following day to make more Prinkles, and incorporate some of the ideas suggested by their friends. It was really good, Hermione thought, to see a smile back on George's face. She would endeavor to keep it there.


	4. A Prinkle In Time

Chapter 4- A Prinkle In Time

After that fateful night word spread quickly about the existence of a new WWW product. Having Lavender Brown involved tended to have that effect, for better or worse. That girl, it turned out, had probably been a marketing genius in a former life.

Grimmauld Place had become the newest party house, with all the testing required for new products in their various stages of development and all. Each garnered more and more speculation as to when the item would debut and exactly what it was. So far they'd managed to keep it under wraps, but more people were invited to every test run, so that likely wouldn't last forever.

Tonight was the final iteration of the testing phase, before they began with production of the true shelf ready product. While she'd had the best two weeks of her life so far, Hermione was a ball of nerves. It was like the final classroom test before the O.W.L.'s, and everyone knows how she is with tests.

Molly Weasley had been enlisted to make all the snacks, and there was even a full bar. While she had initially been disapproving of idea of the twins business, the older woman had seen how successful the were in such a short amount of time, and had slowly begun to accept their entrepreneurship. Hermione had talked the Weasley matron into making the crisps for the final products too, as the other option presented to her was getting house elves to do so— hordes of them, according to George.

The sneaky girl had even snuck a clause into the paperwork the older woman had to sign when accepting the order forms that gave her 25% of the profits from each product she produced. Molly would be furious to be paid for cooking for her children, but she'd get over it eventually. Hopefully. But in Hermione's opinion, she deserved it! Just think of all the cooking supplies she could buy. If only she'd let them update the kitchen at the Burrow, maybe they'd sneak in and do so for Mother's Day.

——————

There were people everywhere. A different group in every room, they were testing three different varieties tonight. One Hogwarts appropriate, that Minerva had requested. The remaining two would be narrowed down to one, once they could decide which they liked better. Later, they had decided, they could branch out to different flavors.

Hermione had been switching between giggle water and butterbeer, in an attempt to avoid a repeat of her hangover horror. She could admit she was not the most sober at the moment though.

The young witch had just sat down to join a group when Harry's turn rolled around. His answer to the truth piece he ate had saddened beyond belief. "I wish Sirius and Fred could have seen this."

It could have been the alcohol, she thought, that made that crash so hard into her soul, but it probably would have made exactly the same impression had she abstained. 'Your deepest desire at the moment the crisp hit your tongue.' was supposed to have been lighthearted. But she could see how Harry's statement would fit that perfectly.

It was definitely the alcohol, however, that pulled her up the stairs with a fresh case of Prinkles.

Pulling out her dragonhide bag she removed various elixirs she had been working on. It might not be the same, she thought, but Harry's truth had merit. Kingsley did say she needed to test the sands some more. This counted, right?

As she pulled out pieces and dashed these with this kind, and those with that kind, mixing here and there for good measure. Her brain was running a mile a minute. Could this work?

Of course it would do something, but... would it take the person or the Prinkle— and where, or when would it all end up? She hoped her brain was working right...

Yes, she knew she was slightly intoxicated, but her reasoning skills were above average normally so maybe... nah, it'd be fine.

—————

When she had finished her spur of the moment modifications, Hermione left all but one of the modified Prinkles on her bed, and returned to the party downstairs. Sliding back into her seat, she realized that the game she had left had just ended, and took the liberty to send everyone but Harry, Ron, George, Neville and Luna and Ginny into another room.

Ignoring the questioning looks of her friends, Hermione spoke the magic words. "Pop the top and the fun don't stop." She handed the first crisp to Harry.

George had noticed the difference as soon as it passed by his face. It glittered. That wasn't what they were supposed to look like. "Hermione... what did you do?" He asked, as Harry ate the crisp and the game began— with a puff of shimmering white smoke. It wasn't supposed to do that either.

"Nothing?" Hermione answered with what she hoped was an innocent look on her face. "Wanna crisp Georgie?" She asked, holding the container out to him.

Not fooled, but not wanting to miss out on whatever the brilliant witch had up her sleeve, he took a crisp. 'Dare your best friend to do something you always wanted to do, but have never done'. He was under the compulsion of the game, so he did it unthinkingly.

The parameters were limited to living people that could actively participate, however, so if what the ministry said was true Fred's name shouldn't have been able to come out of his mouth to make the requested dare. But it did.

From seemingly a million miles away he heard his own voice say, "Fred, I dare you to kiss Angelina Johnson." Instantaneously the can of crisps vanished in another puff of smoke, this time an ominous green color. All eyes turned to the bookish Gryffindor, whose smile was slowly slipping.

Ginny, whose last crisp had her speaking in rhymes, was the first to talk, "what's going on, my smart little friend, if I'm not wrong, the games not at its end?" Hermione giggled, a side effect of the drink she was sipping. "Uh..."

Harry, who's first crisp had once again been a truth about his deepest desire of the moment, with the same answer... was looking at her with ever widening eyes. He had spoken his answer the same time George had spoken his dare. The same time the canister had vanished. "Tell me, Hermione," he pleaded, "that you didn't do something with the sands and the Prinkles."

She looked away and that was all the answer he needed. "Kings said we needed to test them, right? And you just looked so sad... and I..." she giggled again.

"I know he said that," Harry started, suddenly very tired on a whole new level, ",but this was probably not the right setting for that test Herms. You disproved time loops and all that but what about wrinkles?"

At this, Hermione threw her hands in the air and spun around. "Nope, no wrinkles here. It's just..." and she uttered the words that only a true bibliophile could find humor in, "it's just a —Prinkle in Time!".

George gasped, Harry put his face in his hands, Ginny was rhyming all sorts of nonsense at a rapid pace, Ron was looking very confused, and Neville, poor innocent Neville, was just watching everything happen. "Time?!" George yelled, "we lost our test product in—TIME?!"

"Not quite, yours moved sideways, so it might just be someplace else rather than somewhen else...wait..." suddenly Hermione summoned a vial of what was revealed to be sober up potion, before continuing. "That means...George!—Fred is alive!"

————

"What did your crisp have you do?" Harry asked urgently.

George ran his hands through his hair for the millionth time in the last two minutes, drawing in a deep breath and waiting just a beat before answering. He was trying desperately not to break down, or fly into a frenzy. If his twin was alive, he was going to kiss that girl. Otherwise, Granger was on his list of people to have words with, not nice ones either. "Dare my best friend to do something I've never done but have always wanted to do." He shook his head chuckling, "I dared him to kiss Angelina... the can must have gone to him, he would have been compelled to touch it and join the game, then he would be compelled to find her to complete the dare... oh Merlin, we need to find Angelina!"

Smirking wryly at his now blushing friend, Harry cast a patronus, directing their former quidditch teammate to come through the floo to his house, quickly. Making sure to impart the address, as the house was still under the Fidelius. Thankfully he was the secret keeper.

Moments later she arrived, wondering what was going on. It wasn't every day that the boy who lived instructed you to do anything, much less do it quickly, with no explanation. To say she didn't believe what she was being told would have been an understatement. That is, until a flash of light dropped a figure at her feet. A dusty, bedraggled figure that promptly kissed her on the cheek, before falling to the floor.

"Fred!" Chorused through the room, as once again, pandemonium overtook Grimmauld Place.


	5. Lost and Found

Chapter 5- Lost and Found.

The halls of St. Mungo's had long been familiar to Harry and co. With Harry being an auror and the whole bunch having been through a war, it was kind of to be expected. Thankfully, their experiences with the hospital have always had a positive outcome. They were all hopeful that tonights visit wouldn't be an exception to that trend.

Fred, according to the matrons, was alive when they brought him in. He was covered in dust and debris, and had some old wounds that had healed but left scars scattered over his body. Surprisingly, but thankfully, he wasn't emaciated. According to the healer he was probably in shock, and his body had shut down. But, once again, he was alive!

Angelina had been a good sport about the whole thing. She even kissed George and bullied him into taking her on a date before she left them all to handle this... madness. He was on cloud 9, the girl he liked, and his twin brother, both in his future! Yes, he was worried, but he had hope now. More than a glimmer of it. Now he just had to worry about the renegade can of Prinkles that the oh so brilliant Ms. Granger had caused to disappear. Speaking of disappearing...he wondered here that witch had gone to hide.

Sure she was close by, because Fred mattered to her too, he wandered the halls searching for her signature mop of curly brown hair. When he began to hear someone whispering consoling words in rhyme, he knew he was getting close. Ginny had always been her confidant and staunchest female supporter.

If she was nearby, then Hermione was too. "Okay? How is it going to be okay, Ginny. We are stuck in the game until the last crisp is eaten and the lid is closed. The game is gone. Kingsley is going to kill me! Or worse, throw me in Azkaban and throw away the key!" Yep. She was definitely just ahead. "And George, oh he must be so mad! I can't believe how stupid I was! I should never be allowed to drink again."

So close. His position was almost given away when Ginny responded, "Hermione must never drink again! Team Hermione for the win!" He figured his sister was trying to agree with the witches statement, but she just sounded so... funny. George almost couldn't control his laughter.

Closing in on the corner, he called out to make his presence known. "Oi Granger, you brilliant witch you! Stop moping about and come give me a hug!" Rounding said corner he continued, "You found my brother! My twin, my other half! How could I ever be mad at you for that? —Drunkenly messing with time may have been a bit... thoughtless, I don't even know how you managed that bit, but... what's done is done. We will sort it out somehow, I'm sure of it. Now that you're sober you'll think of something."

Hermione was crying in earnest now, big fat tears of relief. Flinging herself into his outstretched arms, she whispered, "I really am sorry for messing with the Prinkles. I wasn't thinking. I just, I had the answers at my fingertips and... I just... acted, I couldn't not. It's so unlike me, I know!"

"I know." Is all he said, giving her a squeeze before tilting her back so she could see him. "I'm not mad, Hermione. I knew you did something and I didn't stop it. I didn't do it, no, but I didn't stop it either." He sighed, "I'm not mad. Maybe a little confused, but definitely not mad." He lowered his head, looking her square in the eyes. Then he did the most unexpected thing— he kissed her.

It was not earth shattering. There were no fireworks. It was not even anything romantic and it wasn't meant to be.

The kiss conveyed so much else. Full of thanks, and hope, promise that everything was going to be okay, it was... definitely something to be remembered, but not to be repeated. As he pulled away from her, he took her hand in his and tugged her back towards the group. "Thank you Hermione, for everything." He said softly, looking back so she could see the emotions running through his eyes. She didn't respond, just squeezed his hand, gave him a small smile and a brief nod.

Separating, George went to comfort his mom, and Hermione went and sat next to Harry. She laid her head on his shoulder, mirroring Ginny on his other side. It was going to be a long night, she could feel it in her bones.

———-

-Meanwhile, back in Grimmauld Place-

Everything looked the same, but something had changed. While the townhouses present residents sat in silence in the wizarding hospital, it's past residents were in their beds. Some awake, some asleep, neither set aware of the existence of the other. A lone figure was stirring. The ancient elf paced worriedly, muttering about his master, his poor master who should be calling for him any minute now.

Sirius Black, on the other side of town, however was wishing he were further away than he was. Somehow he could still feel the gloomy house he grew up in, like it was just around the corner. He was planning his newest prank to the sound of the newest muggle album he had procured, when a flash of light caught his eye.

Walking over to the spot, he found a canister lying on the floor and for some strange reason he knew he needed to open it. In doing so he was somewhat disappointed to find it contained only crisps. Nonetheless he appreciated the snack, and thus placed one in his mouth without a thought.

"One of the guys is really losing their touch... probably Peter, he never really got the hang of pranking— at all. —Man, I remember playing hide and seek with Reg as a kid, daring him to come up with a way to make it harder."

Come to think of it, he didn't know where that thought came from either, but for the heck of it he decided to just go with his random monologue. It's not like anyone was around to hear his descent into madness. Shrugging, he stood up and made a spectacle of it, just because he could, "I dare you to do it again Reg, play hide and go seek with a couple of your little death eater buddies, maybe throw in some draught of living death for a bonus."

Peter, or whoever sent the crisps— Prinkles, if the canister was anything to go by— must be better than he originally thought, because as soon as the words left his mouth, the canister was gone. Only a poof of rapidly dissipating, glimmering green smoke proved it had been there at all.

He shook his head with a wry grin and declared, "I need another drink! 1980 just began and already the reality of it is more trippy than anything the 70's threw at us, psychedelics included."

————

The elf had been summoned by his master moments ago, when a canister appeared before them. He tried to stop his master from reaching out, but he was soaked and delirious already. Nothing he said made a difference. He tried to fight the order to bring his master two vials of Draught of Living Death, but once again he was powerless to deny his young Master Regulus.

At least he had managed to dry him, and pry the bad magic from his masters shaking hands. "Kreacher will keep you in a safe place until Kreacher can find a way to destroy you," he told the bad magic necklace, placing it under a loose floorboard in an abandoned closet in Grimmauld Place.

He brought his master the potions he requested, before doing as he was requested next and popping over to get two of his masters friends. Mr. Avery and Mr. Lestrange were delivered shortly, neither looking very excited by this late night forced visit. Kreacher's master was acting very strange tonight too, so he didn't pay them any mind. His master needed the company.

The last thing he saw that night was the young masters friend telling the young master to order his elf to leave them alone. He never saw his master, or young Mr. Avery again after that night.

The bad Lestrange never told him what happened, except mumbling something about crisps and a meeting he had to attend with his Lord. Evil man! The elf watched him leave with the strange canister that appeared before he and his master earlier that night. The one that appeared in a flash of green light.

————

The next morning, at St. Mungo's, Hermione awoke to find herself surrounded by excited whispers. A blonde haired matron was hurrying towards her, having seen that she was the only one in the group awake. "Ms. Granger! He's trying to wake up!" She whispered excitedly. Harry stirred next to her, causing Ginny to stir as well.

"What's going on? Is anything wrong?" Ginny murmured sleepily. She was getting better at this rhyming thing.

Hermione chuckled at the thought, before whispering, "Fred's trying to wake up, I'm going to get your parents and George. Try to get some more sleep. They should go in first." The redhead nodded with a sleepy smile.

"Mmhmm. Kay, Maybe I should kiss you too. Stop Ms. Mione from feelin all blue." The youngest Weasley mumbled as she snuggled back in to her boyfriends lap. Hermione was really hoping she hadn't seen that, but no such luck. Regardless, Harry seemed too out of it still to recall that particular rhyme, so she didn't stick around to see if he would react. She had some Weasley's to wake!

The question was, which Weasley to wake first. George was closest, and he was Fred's twin, so that made the most sense. She went with it. He was sprawled out on a chair that he had transfigured into a chaise lounge, why hadn't she thought of that? And he had called her brilliant! If that wasn't a case of the pot calling the kettle black she didn't know what was. She almost hated to wake him up, seeing how soundly he was sleeping, but Hermione knew he wouldn't want to miss this so she plopped down ungracefully on the edge of his "bed" and poked him.

Nothing.

She singsonged, "Georgie Porgie, puddin' and pie, kissed the girls and made them cry," punctuating every word with a poke, "When the boys came out to play, Georgie Porgie ran away."

He cracked an eye open, "Madam, I do believe the girl had been crying first, and —Mr. Porgie, was it?— did no such thing as running away." He stretched, pushing her playfully, "What time is it anyway?"

She shrugged, "As the matron tells it, time to wake up if you want to get in there before Fred wakes up first." He was up before she had finished, muttering something about the loo and having enough time to beat his twin into the world this time, since he lost the race the first time around.

Moving on to Mr. and Mrs. Weasley, she crouched before the chairs they had fallen asleep in, and placed a hand gently on each of them. "Mr. and Mrs. Weasley," She attempted to coax them awake. "The matron says Fred's waking up, he will want to see you." The whole family was hard sleepers, even- apparently- while sleeping sitting up in uncomfortable positions.

George, back from the loo, saw her struggling to wake his parents, and took pity on her. "Mom! Ron is in the kitchen eating all the food!" He yelled. She had never seen Molly snap to attention so fast! Ron, on the other hand mumbled "didn't do it!" and continued snoring from the floor. Somehow he had a blanket and a pillow, but the corner he had wedged himself into didn't look comfortable even with it.

"George, what's gotten into you?!" She admonished, yawning and taking in her surroundings with squinted eyes. Suddenly, she stood upright and gasped, "Fred!"

Arthur was quick to jump up next to her, and the three of them made a beeline to Fred's room, George passing on the news of his twins impending awakening as they went. Taking the opportunity presented to her, Hermione laid down on the chair George had vacated, and promptly summoned a blanket from her beaded purple bag. The dragonhide one was nice, but this bag held everything she could think to need in an emergency, or on the go.

She cuddled up and closed her eyes, ceartain that any time now all would be well with the world. Soon she began hearing voices from inside the open door. Unsure of what was taking place inside the room, she let her eyes drift shut until someone deemed fit to fill her in on the situation.

———

After all this time, his mind was finally going. It had been, well, he didn't really know how long it had been since he saw another person. But now, not only had food he had never seen before appeared, he had seen and felt contact with other humans, now he almost felt like he was lying on a mattress. It wasn't the most comfortable one ever, but it was loads better than the stone floor he had been on for ages. Wait. He hadn't dreamed this realistically, ever. That could only mean— no— the only way to find out was to open his eyes. But, oh, he didn't want this dream to end, if that's what it was.

"I'm a Gryffindor!" Roared the figure from the bed, "I-AM-BRAVE!!" Suddenly, eyes wide open, jumping from the bed, only to stop short at seeing— himself, laughing uproariously at— himself. Yeah, in hindsight that statement was kind of random.

"Fred!" The other him said, throwing his arms around him. No, not himself! His... twin!

"GEORGE!" Then looking around the room, "Mom, Dad! What— where are we?" He stopped, letting his mind catch up with his mouth. Yes, Fred had been trapped in that—place, for a long time, but he would know this place anywhere. His memory was just fine, he thought, and that smell. Old people, sweaty socks, and the potions room at night, had to be Mungo's. "Do say this isn't a dream! I wouldn't dream of Mungo's normally..."

His mother was crying, but smiling, perhaps happy tears, while being held by her husband. His father was also smiling, despite looking half asleep. He spoke, directly to her, "You know mum, I won't break. You can give me one of those bone crushing hugs, I know you want to." And suddenly, the ice was broken, she rushed him, chuckles breaking through the sobs, muttering about never scaring her like that again.

"I hate to break up the love fest and all, but— where were you twin of mine?" George had debated asking the question, but he really couldn't help it. They had looked everywhere. The aurors had looked everywhere. The map held no clues. Fred was there, then he was not. It was as plain as that.

Fred studied him, briefly, from over his mother's arm. As soon as he could breathe again, he decided, he would start his tale. But maybe they should call the others, he was sure they were nearby. The whole bunch tended to travel as a group, especially in times like this. He voiced that thought when his air returned, stating he only wanted to say it once. Although, he knew he'd eventually have to repeat it for something or other. He just wanted to move on.

Slowly, at first, the group trickled into Fred's room. Smiles and laughs were abundant, but everyone seemed apprehensive of what they had been told they were about to hear. He figured he better break the tension. "Hey, I'm Fred, you lot probably don't remember me. I'm sure you've seen my evil stunt double moping around though—," he started, before cutting to the chase. "Kidding, Kidding!"

———-

Fred told a tale of the battle that they all knew well, a blast most people in that particular hallway had seen, and a portrait none of them had ever paused to take notice of.

The blast had occurred just outside of the room of requirement, the much loved all purpose room that had been destroyed in the final battle. He had been flung forty feet or so through the air before landing, hard, on the floor in front of what he recalled as the 'only stationary portrait in the whole bloody castle'.

It was just his luck that it was not just that. Both seriously and sarcastically. At that moment he had been about to be crushed, there was no way, he proclaimed, that he could have fired a spell quick enough to delay the rubble that had been about to crush him to death. The portrait, innocent as it seemed, had appeared to notice his life or death plight, and it had grown to the size of a door. This still portrait, of a blank stone wall, and naught but a table and chairs, had been empty of all inhabitants for as long as anyone could remember. This portrait, he declared, had sucked him in.

As his luck would have had it, the room had been free of any traps or dangers. In fact, it appeared to have been some sort of a magical safe room. The room itself was magical, at least. Magic itself, he had come to realize, didn't work at all inside of the room. There were provisions for food, apparently filled from Hogwarts own kitchens, and books to read. Several had been empty, and he had found quills and ink in a drawer of a chest with some other odds and ends. A bed had been tucked in one corner, at one point, but the mattress had decayed over time, making the floor a more attractive option for sleep.

Aside from that, he said, there had been nothing. No way to tell the passing of time, and only written words for company. He did manage to fill several volumes of books with ideas for the shop. Preferring, after a while, to focus on ones that would work even in rooms such as the one he found himself trapped in. Just in case.

Last night, the canister of Prinkles had appeared to him and somehow the magic in the room forcefully ejected it. First, it appeared in the room proper, then when it was ejected, came back directly into his hand. At that moment, in the eyes of the room, he had become part of the magical object, and was thus ejected along with it. Having the can in his hand, he became part of the game, and was compelled to do the dare someone- George, as he was told—had foisted upon him.

Able to use his wand again, but rusty from lack of practice, it had taken Fred several tries to apparate to Grimmauld Place. But, to be fair, it only took a couple tries after he realized that the Hogwarts wards were active, making it impossible to apparate inside the castle. He had gone through the one eyed witches passage into Hogsmeade and tried again.

And that, as he said, was that.


	6. Hidden in Plain Sight

Chapter 6- Hidden in Plain Sight

———-

Life was good once again! Aside from the fact that there was still a renegade magical truth or dare game lost in time. Ginny was still speaking in rhymes, but it was now just an amusing fact of life.

Kingsley was a little peeved, but Hermione had been smart enough to use the elixirs in a way that the perimeters were pretty well defined, so he wasn't exactly worried. Plus, she could practically do no wrong as far as the Minister was concerned. That helped. She was on forced vacation until the renegade Prinkles were found though, which would normally have been like torture to the workaholic witch, but she was taking it well.

That was the most unexpected side effect of the creation of Prinkles, it seemed to have unlocked some hidden potential inside of Hermione. One where she became a social butterfly, and learned to deal with all the cues that came with the position. Somehow, being forced to act silly or unlike herself surrounded by people had given her the experiences of a normal childhood. It showed!

It had not, however, changed her nervous tendencies. Today was the day they would be unveiling the new product and Hermione was a mess! Fred had jumped right in and helped her and George design the packaging, as well as taste testing the crisps in their various incarnations before they settled on the one that was 'just right'. George was trying his best to keep everyone happy, but once Fred departed to work on one the ideas he had developed while in seclusion, he was left trying to calm the beast.

Everything was arranged neatly in the shop, and the ceremony (because, it was a big deal after all the hype) would be taking place in just under an hour. There wasn't anything left to distract her with, he was starting to lose his cool too. So, he grabbed Harry and they started a game.

They wanted it to be something lighthearted and nothing they had to talk their way through. Otherwise they'd get stuck in another one of her nervous rants and he just couldn't deal with that right now. He was a bit nervous too.

"I've got it" Harry declared. "I know it's stupid, but I've never played hide and seek." As if he could sense the response coming from the older ginger he quickly continued, "Yes, George, I know I played seeker and had to find the snitch for years. It's not the same thing."

George had only chuckled in response, and tried to act like he would never say anything like that. But Hermione was all in. "Not it!" She called, already running out of the room. George followed suit, yelling something about Harry being a seeker so he was used to the position.

The raven haired man was a good sport about it though, covering his eyes with his hands and counting to 100 at an even cadence. Hermione, he thought, would definitely go to the library to hide. No doubt she knew a few nooks and crannies amongst the shelves that no one else did. George, on the other hand, could be anywhere. Since it was Hermione they were trying to distract, and he had a good idea where she would be found, he should definitely start with trying to find George.

Having spent so much time in the aged building, Harry thought for sure that they had uncovered all of its secrets by now. Little did he know they hadn't seen anything yet.

Opening what appeared to be a cupboard in the kitchen, he instead found a cobweb covered set of stairs, descending in a tight corkscrew into a gaping hole in the floor. He didn't know how far down it went, as it was swallowed by the darkness a few steps down. Judging by the undisturbed blanket of dust and silk webs, he was betting neither of his friends had hidden down in the depths of whatever surely twisted mystery lay below their very feet.

Adding a mental note to explore that later, with a cursebreaker if he was smart, Harry moved on. Back in the main foyer, a slender door tucked into a out of the way corner of the entryway was his next stop.

Once opened, it revealed a crumbling brick wall. What had they been trying to seal up, he wondered, absentmindedly running his hands over the bricks. When he didn't feel the texture he thought he was, his eyes snapped up, to see his fingers waving around where the bricks were supposed to be. Noting that they didn't feel stuck or anything, he stuck his head in, careful to keep his hands braced on either side of the door. After Fred's adventure with the magical, or maybe antimagical would be a better term, safe room, he wasn't taking any chances.

To his surprise, he opened his eyes to find a full potions lab, and some sort of indoor greenhouse charmed to appear as if it was outside. Another place to revisit at a later date.

When George departed, he recalled, his footsteps seemed to sound the same as Hermione's, so he probably went upstairs as well. If he had to come back down and scour the parlor or the lounge he would do that, but there weren't many places to hide in the wide open spaces in those rooms. If he were George, he wouldn't hide in a bathroom. Honestly, if he were George he wouldn't hide at all, he would just get to somewhere he could see everything, then disillusion himself. Maybe he should have checked those rooms downstairs, but it was too late now.

Casting a fruitless revelio on the whole hallway, he was satisfied that his redheaded friend wasn't lurking about there. Doing the same in Sirius' old room, and what had once been Buckbeaks room, also revealed nothing. "Come out, come out, wherever you are!," he shouted, not expecting a reply.

Rounding the corner, he cast another charm and, seeing no George shaped blobs, almost continued until he spotted a door that hadn't been there before.

Carefully, he opened the new door, only to find another brick wall. Behind this wall, once again bracing his hands on the frame and sticking his head through, he found another wing of the house. Undisturbed dust on the floor leading him to believe George wasn't hiding somewhere within, he added it to the growing list of places to check out.

A few more empty rooms, Regulus'- now Hermione's- room, also had a couple hidden places. One behind the bookshelf, a secret nook with gaudy green floor cushions and a hidden window, showing a cheery scenic view, obviously a charm. Also an illusion, like the brick walls. Another, a door on the wall, appeared to be a storage area/ closet. The last being an enchanted compartment under a loose floorboard, nothing too remarkable there. Probably just a hiding spot for firewhisky or something. He had seen something similar in Sirius' room.

Orion's room, with its attached secret study, was similarly empty. There was a study, probably also Orion's, behind another hidden door across the hall. Another place to check in on later, but nothing extraordinary at first glance.

At the end of the hallway, he went up the stairs, and entered the third floor. The library was ahead of him, the hallway extending to both his left and right. A few more rooms, both empty and unremarkable. A couple that were unremarkable, and housed only covered furniture. Where the hallway appeared to end, he found the wall to be another glamor, instead the hall continued around another corner, looping back to the library after another illusionary wall.

Among several other bedrooms, the newfound hallway housed a ballroom and two large bathrooms. Apparently guest suites, and bathrooms meant to make an impression, as they were complete with large pool-like bathing tubs, spigots with scented lotions, potions and oils, and an area with warm, scented wind blowing. Harry suspected the last feature was for drying off, but he had never seen anything like it, so he wasn't certain. Two more parlors and a smaller, more opulent, version of the great hall at Hogwarts, adjoined the ballroom.

The last door before he returned to the library was what he always had assumed to be a large storage closet, but he had never noticed another set of stairs tucked away in the corner. He forgot to cast a revelio charm, or he would have seen that in his haste to get to the staircase he was on a collision course with George. The older boy tried to avoid it, but it was for naught, and they both went down in a tangle of limbs.

George, no longer disillusioned, groaned. "I know you've never played this game before Harry, but I'm pretty sure you know it's supposed to be... way less physical." He slowly removed himself from the floor and offered the younger boy a hand.

"Sorry about that George!" Harry responded, red with embarrassment. "I figured you'd be hiding in plain sight. Forgot to cast the charm this time though. I just noticed the stairs and was keen to explore." George laughed, patting him on the back and gesturing to the stairs with a 'shall we?'.

They ascended the ornately carved steps, into what only could have been an attic, it was dusty, like most of the rooms he had found today, but full of light. Probably the only room in the house to not have those horrid draperies. In the center of the room was another staircase, leading up once more, into an observatory, that would have been perfect for stargazing had it been night time.

"Hermione's going to be mad, she could have studied astronomy here over breaks." George whistled, starting back down the stairs.

Harry agreed, "That's not even the half of it. I think the house wards recognize me now. I've been able to find places Sirius never even talked about. This place has literally everything. Thank goodness we didn't know about it earlier though, or your mum would have had us cleaning forever!"

Both laughing now, they headed back downstairs to retrieve their bookish friend from the library. They didn't have much time left before the big product reveal, and they'd never hear the end of it if they made her late to her own party.

George decided to go left, while Harry took the right. They searched amongst the stacks, both casting revelio for good measure. Harry had passed the same blank wall several times when suddenly it shifted, revealing the curly haired witch, wand lit, immersed in a thick tome. She waved dismissively, knowing she had been found, but too absorbed in her quest for knowledge to care. The bespectacled boy barely noticed though, as the charm that had been on his lips before the shifting of the wall, had alerted him to a presence that the girl in front of him clearly was unaware of. He promptly dropped his wand and screamed.

———-

As someone who had been through a war with the boy who lived, Hermione was aware that very few things could illicit that particular reaction from her friend. Thusly so, she immediately slammed down her book and swiveled the light from her wand in the direction Harry was looking. "Who _is_ that?!" She gasped, rushing over.

On the floor, just feet from where she had spent the last 45 minutes, lay a probe figure. He appeared, for all intents and purposes to be a younger Sirius Black. "No pulse," she said, checking, "not breathing, not stiff though, nor particularly cold." His fingers were curled around a small glass vial. While empty, it was labeled: Draught of Living Death.

Their investigation was interrupted by another scream. "George!" Hermione yelled, pulling Harry in the direction it came from. "He's been like that for Merlin knows how long, a little longer won't hurt! Come on!"

On the other side of the library, George had found another hiding spot. A false bottom shelf, complete with another prone figure. This time one they couldn't place by appearances. Judging by his attire though, they wouldn't like what they learned. Death eater robes. Fantastic.

A clock chimed in the distance, alerting the group to the time. 15 minutes til the reveal, and they had an unknown Black, and a death eater, unconscious on the library floor.

Quickly, Hermione levitated the unknown death eater to her own hiding spot, laid him down by the first boy, and closed the entrance. They'd deal with them later that night, she declared. And they were off.

————

There were people everywhere. Plenty that looked familiar, plenty more that didn't. Fred was outside, leading the countdown, "10-9-8-".

George was by the door with a ridiculous pair of gigantic scissors, opening them slowly, and poising them around the ribbon stretched across the doorway. "7-6-5", Fred continued.

Hermione was inside, nervously standing by the display, where George had insisted they set up a podium and give a little speech about their collaborative project, and the future of WWW. "4-3-2", she heard from outside.

Showtime. She pasted a smile on her face, which became hard to maintain as she saw George had indeed snuck the Granger Danger title into the display, just as Fred and George both shouted, "ONE!" and the crowd descended upon her.

In reality, the whole thing wasn't nearly as bad as she thought it would be. Yeah, there were a lot of people, but the whole process was fairly straightforward. Smile, talk, smile, shake hands, move on, repeat. It was, she heard people say, nice to have a new type of item in the store. In the past it had been prank items, or things to help the war effort.

This was something that everyone could enjoy, and it was "refreshing". An edible item from WWW that you could eat without unpleasant side effects like your tongue growing, or vomiting uncontrollably. Because of this, they were selling out fast! Even faster when first hand experiences started to circulate from people who had partaken in testing.

All in all, it was a sweeping success. Fred and George were over the moon, stating it was the fastest they'd ever sold out of any product they'd had a hand in making. Unlike George, Fred wasn't so fast to let her go after only one product. So far she was able to stand strong, but with the amount of flattery he was laying on her, she wasn't so sure how long that was going to last. He had always been the more persuasive twin.

After pointing out that they would need to be able keep up with demand for this product before starting another project, he acquiesced, and she brought up the other thing that might keep her busy for a while: the two unknown houseguests they had left in the library.

Not having known this information yet, Fred dealt with any remaining stragglers in the building, then insisted that they go see just what was going on at Grimmauld Place. Meanwhile Hermione rounded up the Weasleys, and Harry, as well as anyone that could be counted as backup in case things went south. This amounted to Neville, and a couple of Harry's auror buddies.

The Motley group met back at the townhouse to debrief.

———-

It was like an Order meeting, all over again. Hermione stood, front and center, waiting for any stragglers. McGonagall, and Kingsley appeared, Andromeda Tonks too. When the twins appeared, she began.

"In the process of trying to distract me from my own nervous habits, Harry and George suggested a game. Childish as it may be, we decided upon Hide and seek. It may not come as a surprise to you to learn that I chose to hide in the library, but it was a surprise to us when they found me.

Two unknown persons were hiding in the room as well. Having cast a revelio, Harry uncovered one man feet from me, a vial of Draught of Living Death in his hand. George, on the other side of the room, uncovered another inside a false bottom shelf, also with the help of the revelio charm.

The first man appears to be a Black, as he could easily be a younger Sirius. The second is not familiar, and should be approached with caution based on his choice of dress alone. He is wearing full Death Eater regalia, and also had the same vial of potion in his hand."

Most people looked shocked, but they weren't shocked silent. The room exploded into noise and motion. The Aurors running up the stairs to the library, not realizing the two men were still in a hidden alcove. Despite their departure, Hermione continued.

"I believe the first order of business would be to confirm their identities. If either was extremely dangerous in the past then it might be wise to wake one, or both, somewhere more secure. Like a ministry holding cell." At this point Hermione noticed one of the people in the room looking like she wanted to speak, "Andromeda?"

The older witch smiled in thanks, "I may be able to be of assistance," She started kindly, as Hermione remembered that Andromeda had started life as Andromeda Black, sister of Bellatrix and Narcissa. "I know of one family member that went missing years ago, and is presumed to be dead. In fact, the tapestry even shows the date of such event. I believe you've heard of his last good deed before his alleged passing."

It was like the wind had been knocked out of her. "Regulus." Hermione breathed in shock, suddenly keen to follow the Aurors up the stairs. The boy who's last act had been to betray the lord he had been forced to pledge his allegiance to. Sirius' younger brother. Gesturing for Andromeda to follow her, she concluded her speech, "We will regroup tomorrow morning, unless anyone has some Wiggenweld potion laying around. If you think you can be of assistance identifying the boys, please follow me. Otherwise, I wish you a good night."

Andromeda and Hermione proceeded to the library, Andromeda as stoic as any Black Hermione had ever seen, and Hermione herself lost in though of how to brew that potion overnight with limited ingredients and no proper preparation space, that and the handsome, dark hero who had been tucked amongst the stacks of books for years.

Arriving in the spot that had served as her refuge during her residence at the townhouse, Hermione felt a hand upon her back. Harry's show of silent support. She pulled the candlestick on the wall and the shelf slid open, revealing the two motionless boys to the room at large. The woman to her left dropped to her knees before the body of the dark haired young man. Stroking his cheek, like a doting mother would a young child, she confirmed that this man, was indeed her cousin.

Andromeda then turned to the other boy, and gave pause. "I know him too, but not as well." She sighed thoughtfully, "hmm. Not a relation. I went to school with him, although he was in Regulus' year, so a bit younger than I was." Her eyes widened. "Avery, not sure his first name, nasty character. I believe he was friends with the Lestrange brothers." She paused again, eyes squinting, "He looks to be a lot older than Regulus though, like he was placed here a while after. I remember he had been in Azkaban before the mass breakout."

Hermione gasped and covered her mouth, causing Harry to throw an arm around her and give her a brief side hug. "We knew headquarters had been compromised at one point." He spoke, nodding as he worked out the order of events in his head. "So it looks like whoever did this, knew Regulus was in here, and had been for some time. They may have even been here when it happened, or maybe it was in retaliation to his actions... although Voldemort usually preferred more, uh, violent methods to make examples of people." He thought for a moment before continuing, "probably not Voldemort himself, maybe one of the Lestrange brothers if they were as close to this Avery guy here." He gestured to the older man. "So... Lestrange and Avery are here when Regulus potions himself in a hidden alcove in his own home. They leave, war happens, they get locked up, break out, and years later the Avery ends up potioning himself in the very same room? Without a wand, and in a space that can only be opened by magic... he had to have had help..."

While Harry had been laying out the order of events, his Auror friends had begun to examine the body of the older man. Checking his pockets confirmed he had no wand, and they found bruising all over his wrists, and legs suggesting that he had been bound. "Ok..." Harry breathed, "so he definitely didn't do this to himself. What did he know that he wasn't supposed to? Hmm." He shook his head as if to clear it. "Well, we should definitely wake this one up in the ministry. It appears he is the victim in this situation, but he is definitely not an innocent one by the sounds of it."

One Auror grabbed hold of Avery, and apparated him to the ministry, they would wake him there when the potion was ready. Regulus was moved onto a couch in the library. They could have moved him to his old room, if it wasn't for the fact that Hermione had taken up residence in there. He was sure the youngest Black brother would be thrilled to learn of that fact. "I think he can be woken here," Harry started.

Before he could finish his sentence the two remaining Aurors pointed their wands at the prone figure on the couch and shouted "renervate!". There was a reason, it turned out, that Aurors were not the same thing as healers. A healer would have known that this man was not just passed out, but for all intents and purposes, deceased until dosed with the correct antidote.

"Good job mates, you proved the potion works even under spellfire!" George joked from the doorway.

Fred, laughingly added, "I'm started to see how I wasn't found for years."

Hermione took pity on the poor men and kindly informed them that the antidote was one specific potion that she would have to brew that night. If she could find the ingredients and a place to brew them properly on such short notice. Blushing, they took their leave, now knowing there was nothing further they could do to assist.

"Uh Hermione, about those ingredients and stuff." Harry said timidly, rubbing his neck anxiously. "I may have found some other stuff while searching for you. I just... forgot to tell you in all the— excitement." He ended with a nervous chuckle, waiting for the explosion that never came.

Instead, she just stared at him. "Well?" She said after a moment, "Are you going to show me or what?" Not one to look a gift horse in the mouth, and not willing to be asked by the witch twice, Harry started towards the potions lab and conservatory he had discovered earlier. They left Andromeda to watch over her long lost, but now found, cousin.


	7. Revelations

Chapter 7- Revelations

They walked in silence. Harry wasn't sure if that was a good thing, but he wasn't going to complain. Once they reached the foyer, he led her to the doorway he had discovered before. She opened it, and laughed. "Harry!" When she turned towards him she was scowling, " A brick wall?! This is not the time to be joking arou—"

He grabbed her shoulders and pushed her forwards, through the illusion, "Harry! What?!" Her mouth was open in awe, looking around at the, now visible, potions lab and greenhouse. "It's like the entrance to 9 3/4!" She said in wonder.

"Harry, it's not the time to be joking around" he mimicked.

She chuckled, knowing she was deserving of that mockery. "Sorry, Harry! This is great. Now we just need to find the ingredients, which will be here and unspoiled if we are lucky, and get to brewing."

"And while we do that I can fill you in on the other places I found this morning." He added. She gasped in surprise, "There's more?"

Summoning her old potions text from her room, and flipping through the pages until she found the one containing the instructions for the Wiggenweld potion, a comfortable silence fell between them, only interrupted by the sound of Harry shuffling through the room, trying to get a feel for the layout of the room and noting the location of items they may need.

She had written down the ingredients, sorted by like kinds, since they would probably be stored in close proximity to each other. Harry, for his mimicry, got the wet ingredients. Hermione took the dry portion.

"Oh, of course we had to need the potion with the nastiest ingredients in it" Harry complained, looking at the Flobberworm slime he had just collected with more than a little bit of distaste. "Where is Kreacher when you need him?"

The former Black family elf, as Harry knew, was currently volunteering at Hogwarts to finish the remaining restorations. Well, he had been, before Harry used his name in vain, causing the constantly disgruntled, old elf to appear before him.

"Halfblood Master calls Kreacher, Kreacher comes. What does the Master needs? Kreacher be's working on restoring the ancient Hoggywarty wards, important old Elf Magic, Headmistress makes Kreacher in charge." At this the old elf puffed his chest, preening in his own self importance.

That had to have been what Harry hoped would happen, well the elf showing up part. The confidence part was cute too though, according to Hermione.

"We are sorry to interrupt your important duties Kreacher, Harry was just trying to collect the ingredients for Wiggenweld potion. We can take care of it, you can go back to Hogwarts." She started kindly, throwing in a "Thank you, Kreacher." for good measure.

The tiny elf shook his head and threw his hands in the air, "Halfblood Master and his ...friend... messing up Kreacher's potion ingredients looking for potion that be's in potions cabinet?" he questioned, pointing a knobby finger at what appeared to be an ornately carved, rolltop writing desk.

He snapped his fingers and a neatly labeled vial appeared in Harry's hand. "You's be lost without Kreacher." He declared, shaking his head solemnly before disappearing once again.

"To be fair," Hermione started after the elf had popped away, "We probably should have at least thought of the possibility that there were potions already made, in a potions lab."

"But-But- I just-," Throwing his hands up in the air, Harry exclaimed, "Flobberworms! Mucous! Ugh!" Before storming out into the house proper. "Let's get this over with, I'm tired of all the... weird."

———-

Helpless to stop him, Hermione followed her long time friend, the bottle of potion in her hands. She wondered if he knew how this potion had to be applied. Probably not. This should be interesting.

She thought back to the story. It had not been mentioned in the textbook itself, but this was the Bookworm, Hermione Granger herself, so she had researched thoroughly about this, and every, potion they learned about in classes.

According to legend, a prince had used this potion to awaken his lover that had been poisoned, or more likely potioned, by a hag. He had applied it to his lips, and pressing a kiss to hers, his love awakened. This legend is the one that inspired the muggle story of sleeping beauty.

As they reached the library and Andromeda came into sight, Hermione popped the cork on the vial. She gestured for the older witch to not say anything, then smeared the potion on her lips.

Just as Harry had opened his mouth to ask "Ok so... how do we do this?" Hermione rushed past him, and pressed her lips to those of the unconscious Regulus Black.

"Hermione! What are you doing?!" Her clueless friend scoffed. Hermione burst into laughter, at the same time the body of the other man in the room twitched.

"Oh." Harry sighed, "that's... ugh, see! I can't get away from the weird!"

————

Regulus heaved in a deep, gasping breath. His fingers moved, just the slightest bit. His eyes moved beneath his lids. His nose began to twitch and then, suddenly... and with a roar... he sneezed.

Hermione and Harry couldn't help but laugh. Andromeda, while chuckling, said "bless you", to which the sleeping boy, now with a bit of color in his pale cheeks, replied "thank you." He gasped. "What?!"

Rapidly, he sat up, wincing in pain from stiff muscles, long unused. Undeterred, he opened his eyes and immediately shut them again. He did this several times before speaking. "Dromeda? What's going on? You look— different?" He asked, voice scratchy, then he turned, noticing the other two people in the room.

He felt for his wand. Not finding it, his shoulders slumped, and he drew in a slow breath. "And just who are these... people" Regulus directed at Andromeda, then turned ,"You," He pointed at Harry, "are, undoubtedly, a Potter. But I don't know either of you." He sighed, looking exhausted despite the long sleep he had endured.

"Maybe we should just start from the beginning?" Hermione stated gently, summoning a chair wandlessly before perching upon it. The man nodded and the story began again.

————

How long had he been this way? Regulus wondered, as he half listened to the curly haired witch drone on and on. It had been hours, he would swear it. But the hands on the clock nearby, he noted, had barely moved at all. This witch, the one he didn't know, who hadn't bothered to introduce herself as of yet, talked entirely too much.

He couldn't take it anymore! He didn't even know what year it was, he didn't care that they had been playing some childish kids game! Wait...

"Excuse my interruption—?" He paused, hoping someone would fill in the blank.

She did, looking abashed, "Hermione. Sorry, I should have led with that..." she trailed off, noticing he was trying to speak.

Nodding his thanks he continued, "Hermione, pardon, forgive me if I'm being too... rude... I find myself anxious to simply get to the point."

She smiled wryly, while The Potter, as he had been internally calling the bespectacled boy with the unmistakable hair, barked out a laugh, and his cousin snorted in quite an unladylike manner.

"The gist of it, from what I heard, is you were roaming about playing the same game I was in 1980, when you stumbled across me and another gentleman who has been removed to the ministry for known ties with the —I'm very glad to hear— defeated dark lord. Avery, if I am correct in his identity was with me the night this all started." He paused, for effect, but The Potter broke in.

"That's impossible!" He shouted, "Avery, you're correct there, had aged normally. Maybe he was with you the night you were potioned, but he undoubtedly left that night too. It was like someone snuck in here when the house was compromised during the war, potioned him against his will, and shoved him in a false bookshelf."

The youngest Black brother hmmed. "Take us through the events of that night?"

Definitely a Potter, demanding, every one of them, Regulus raised an eyebrow, "Potter, I presume?"

The Potter nodded, responding, "Harry."

He was surprised, although he didn't show it. Harry had been the name of the son of Severus' long lost love. If it was the same boy then it had indeed been a while. He gulped, suddenly feeling faint, before resigning himself to his tale.

"It was 1980, as I said before, end of March. I had just returned from retrieving an artifact that the dark lord had borrowed my elf to hide, in order to destroy it... suddenly, a flash of light deposited a canister of some sort in my hands, and I had the sudden urge for a late night game of hide and seek.

I called my elf to retrieve two of my friends, Avery and Lestrange, and three vials of Draught of Living Death. Which, at the time, apparently sounded like a way to make the game more... well, less, childish? Honestly, I have no idea where the idea came from. We played, I hid in the alcove, drank the potion— and here we are."

He couldn't help but notice that the young curly haired witch's eyes had nearly begun to pop out of her head, and The Potter- Harry- was glaring at her accusingly. "The PRINKLES!" Harry yelled, at the same time the witch- Hermione- quietly asked, "What happened to the canister?"

He shrugged, clueless, "I —don't know? If they aren't here, then someone would have to have taken them, they were on the table by the door when I went to hide." He suddenly got the feeling they knew more about the strange canister then he did. Fully expecting his trusty elf to show up he stated, "You'd have to ask Kreacher."

"What does the Halfblood Master and his dirty friend need now?" He didn't expect that greeting.

"Master? What happened to Sirius?" Regulus asked Harry and Hermione, as the elf suddenly noticed his presence and threw himself at his feet. "Young Master Regulus! You's back! Kreacher protected the locket until Halfblood Master was able to destroy it! Kreacher tried, but he could not destroy it!"

He had so many questions, all at once, but decided to stay on topic first. He was really getting a headache. "Thank you Kreacher. The night I disappeared, did you see anyone leave with a canister?"

The elf was so excited he was practically vibrating. "Yes! Yes! Bad Lestrange took the canister, he was eating a strange food from inside of it when he left.

He comes back for Master Avery a week later, to makes him comes to bad lord for a problem." The elf paused, "with the canister. It— did something to the bad lord." Kreacher giggled, and everyone gaped at him.

"The young Avery tries to fix the bad lord, but could not. He tries many years, then the Bad Lestrange brings him back. Kreacher not sees him again. Like young master Regulus."

Hermione asked the question on everyone's mind. "Kreacher... what did the crisps, the food in the canister, do to Voldemort?"

Again the aged elf giggled with glee. "The bad lord was cursed. He's had big nose" a cackle, from the elf "glasses like Halfblood Master, eyes be painted in them. Big," another giggle, "blue baby eyes. They never closes!" The elf dropped to the floor, tears of mirth running down his face.

Harry just stared at Hermione, who couldn't have lifted her jaw from the floor if she wanted to. Regulus was laughing so hard sound wouldn't come out, and Andromeda was trying to figure out what alternate reality she had woken up in this morning.

"Hermione..." Harry started, "you are scary and brilliant and I love you very very much. Thank you, stupid girl, for making the drunken mistake that will forever sear that mental image into my mind."

Kreacher stopped laughing suddenly and gaped at Hermione, "Halfblood Master's dirty friend makes the foods that makes the bad lord angry at anyone who speaks his name?"

"The reason for the first taboo!" Hermione gasped, "Yes, George and I made the Prinkles. I, uh, did something with time magic when I was drunk and accidentally lost a canister in time... Harry wished Sirius could— oh!"

She threw her hands over her mouth, Before exclaiming, "Harry! You sent the Prinkle's to Sirius, who dared Regulus to play hide and seek with a twist of potioning... thus bringing Regulus into the game, Regulus invited his friends. Lestrange took the canister, joining the game when he touched it, then eating a crisp and— he cursed Voldemort with muggle funny face glasses!

Lestrange tried to get Avery— who had been known for his curse reversal skills— to fix it, but since the effects keep going til the last crisp is gone and the lid is back on the canister, he couldn't. So he wound up back here until we found him today!" She giggled, "Moldywart must have been so mad when people started talking about him that he started the taboo on his name to take care of it."

"Brilliant, but scary" Harry repeated.

Regulus nodded, "I've known you for less than a day and I can see he's correct in that statement. Time magic...? What else have I missed? And what happened to my brother?!"

"Kreacher goes back to Hoggywartys, almost dones with the wards. Then Kreacher comes back and makes breakfast for young masters and their brilliant scary friend." That also was a new one.

It appeared it was time for another story. But first, they decided, bed!


	8. Admissions and Admonitions

Chapter 8- Admissions and Admonitions

The decision to retire for the night had been harder than it seemed. Not only because Hermione was currently inhabiting Regulus' room, but also because so many things had been revealed that night that it was tough to process all of them.

Regulus had decided he, being the gentleman, would choose another room for the night. Orion's, as it turned out.

Hermione could tell he was anxious to check out the state of his belongings, though he hadn't mentioned a thing. He bid his cousin goodnight, then he retired to his chosen room, and she headed home to check on her grandson.

They had all agreed to reconvene bright and early the next morning, before the Minister, the Aurors, and the rest of the family/Order members could descend upon them with what was sure to be an endless amount of questions. The problem, at least in Harry's mind, is what they'd have to discuss could very well be what broke Sirius' brother. And Harry very much didn't want to be the one to cause that. He wanted Regulus to be willing to share things that could explain what made his brother who he was.

What truly kept him up for so long, worrying, was that it was his fault that Sirius was gone in the first place. If he hadn't fallen for the trick, his godfather would never have been in the ministry in the first place, and would be alive and well. And he would have to admit as much tomorrow.

Eventually Harry had snuck into the potions lab and browsed the stock of potions in the desk Kreacher had pointed out. There was practically everything in there, he found. Thankfully that included some Dreamless Sleep potion.

Taking a couple vials, Harry walked to Hermione's room to check on her. He had the sneaking suspicion she would be just as awake as he was. And probably more than a nervous wreck thinking about Kingsley's reaction to seeing the formerly unconscious Regulus Black walking around. They had said they'd revive him tomorrow with everyone present.

Hermione opened the door before he had even finished knocking. She saw the vials in his hand and laughed quietly. "You know me too well, Harry." Gesturing for him to come in, she returned back to her bed and sat down.

"That's what brothers are for." He responded, nudging her over on the bed so he could climb in next to her. "I couldn't sleep either." He admitted quietly. "I have to tell Regulus I practically killed his brother in the morning."

She wrapped an arm around him, pulling him to lay down with her. "You didn't kill Sirius, Harry. Sirius died because of Bellatrix, and even still we were in the middle of a war. Who's to say he would have made it through that if he hadn't gone through the veil? We just don't know. It's... regardless it was not your fault." His best friend gave him a comforting squeeze, then demanded he take the potion in his hand. She would need his strength in the morning, and he didn't need to be alone.

Down the hall, Regulus was imagining what exactly could have happened to take down his headstrong, older brother. The possibilities were staggering. It had been a time of war after all. He just hoped that it had been quick and painless. They may not have been on the best terms, but he knew the kind of tortures his friend liked to inflict on their victims.

Worse yet, he knew what their master had considered entertainment as well. In the end, Regulus had summoned a glass, and some firewhisky from Sirius' private stash, before finally succumbing to sleep.

————

Morning came far too soon. Regulus had awoken first, still feeling tingly all the way to his toes from the firewhisky. He slowly made his way down to the kitchen, where Kreacher was already serving a breakfast feast fit for a king.

He ate in silence until Andromeda had shown up with a young boy in tow. Her grandson, Teddy, as he was introduced, had immediately changed his eyes to match Regulus' own blue grey eyes, then scrunched his nose to concentrate on growing his hair to match Regulus' shoulder length cut. They didn't speak much, as not one of them was awake enough yet, but it was a companionable silence that fell upon them.

Harry and Hermione had shuffled in shortly after, looking for all the world like they had a full nights sleep. Then the noise began. Teddy, it would seem, had missed his godparents.

The once silent boy was a flurry of words in motion. Arms flailing animatedly as he discussed the dragons he had fallen in love with, and the little girl he had met at the park and was sure he was going to marry when they were grown ups.

Harry and Hermione had responded in kind, gladly taking the distraction offered to them. This left the other two adults at the table to swivel their heads back and forth, in an attempt to keep up with the fast paced conversation, before finally giving up and making small talk with each other.

Eventually, Teddy finished his breakfast and his Grandmother called her house elf to look after him while they talked. The young boy looked glum, but complied. Once they were child free, the silence became more awkward than comfortable, until Harry, who had apparently found some leftover Gryffindor bravery, spoke.

"You asked about Sirius," he began, staring at the younger Black sibling of the pair. "To explain fully I'm going to have to backtrack, so bear with me. At the end of the first war, in October of 1980 -Halloween to be exact- Voldemort, acting on a prophecy that had been relayed to him, and information from one of my parents close friends, went to Godric's Hollow. There he found the cottage holding the person he believed to be the subject of that prophecy, and attempted to eradicate the threat.

That night, he killed my father, but he did not stop there. He went up the stairs into the nursery where he attempted to Avada me. My mother refused to let that pass, activating some ancient blood magic by sacrificing herself for me.

Seeing I was helpless he cast the killing spell again, I was hit, but the spell didn't take. Instead, it rebounded and hit him.

They found no body, but Voldemort died that night. Little did anyone know, he also left a bit of himself inside of me." He tapped his scar.

"When he returned at the end of the Triwizard Tournament, in my 4th year at Hogwarts, I began getting pains in my scar. Later, they progressed to visions. I could see what he saw, and worried that he could similarly see through me.

I began practicing occulomency to try to block him out, with some success. One night I got a vision of a scene taking place in the hall of prophecies. In friends father was being attacked by Voldemort's horcrux familiar. I alerted the headmaster, who sent members from the Order of the Phoenix to see if it was truly happening. It was.

The next time I got a prophecy, it was of Sirius. He was in the ministry. He was with Voldemort, and being tortured.

I've been told I have a bit of a savior complex. And at that moment I may well have. After trying unsuccessfully to find out where Sirius was, I assembled a group of friends and we went to the ministry. Turns out Sirius was never in the ministry, and I had been tricked.

By the time we figured that out, we were already engaged in battle. Voldemort had staged the whole thing in an effort to get his hands on the prophecy.

Sirius, not knowing it was a trap, came running in to save the day. He got into a fight with Bellatrix, and she sent him tumbling through the veil." Speech delivered, Harry rose from his spot at the table and, not looking at anyone, walked from the room with a barely audible, "I need a minute."

The silence was complete for a moment. Andromeda rose to check on Harry, while Hermione studied Regulus. She was the only other one in the room that knew what happened that day, or she would have gone to her friend and left the cousins together. Regulus was way too calm about all of this. She expected at least a mild outburst, or a gasp... or, well, anything.

What she had not expected, however, is what eventually came out of his mouth. "That idiot fell through the arch?!" Regulus scoffed with a smile.

She had to admit, but only to herself, that she wasn't entirely unaffected by the deep gravely texture of it. It was like—the audio version of honeyed whiskey, sweetly intoxicating. She was so distracted she almost missed the rest of his reaction. Shaking herself, she tuned back into his lively monologue,

"Where was he when we learned about...oh, yeah, he was busy being disowned! Idiot Gryffindor... well, our ancestors invented the stupid waste of space, so fortunately, or unfortunately—I suppose it depends who you ask— I know all about it.

How it works, what it is, how to get in and out safely... wait... he left me for dead for how long?! Can't I just, I don't know—leave him there?"

She glared pointedly, and he relented, slightly, whining, "Not even a little?"

A dry laugh abruptly tore itself from her throat, accompanied by a delicate raised eyebrow, immediately followed by the unexpected darting out of her tongue in a rare childish display.

"Ugh...Fine." He sighed, running a hand through his hair. What was happening to the world? This witch stomps in, rescues him from his enchanted slumber, and doesn't even have to say a word to get her way. With him, of all people.

It was at that point he noticed that they had company. Hermione's actions didn't seem to be an out of the ordinary occurrence according to their reactions, as nobody was showing surprise, except a little at the only childish gesture displayed.

He got the feeling that the bossy girl was just a little high strung. How on Earth did this tightly wound witch know his brother, much less care about his continued existence? Harry was his godson and heir, apparently, which explained his presence in the Ancestral Black home. Unless...

His mouth opened before he even had time to think about it, the words tumbling out in an almost sneering drawl, "So... how long have you been sleeping with my brother?"

He really should have thought that one through, if how quickly he found himself staring at the spider web covered ceiling, from his new vantage point on the dusty floor was any indication.

Her unhindered laughter was unexpected, yet not unwelcome, as she tried to bring herself back under control. She really should have expected that response of a Black, those eyes and attitude would give him away immediately in almost any situation.

When she finally spoke, his breath caught, "He may be ruggedly handsome, Regulus, but Sirius doesn't have a death wish. You however, are lucky you just woke up from an enchanted slumber, Sleeping Beauty. Otherwise I'd get the distinct impression that you do!

My best friend, however, would love nothing more than to have his godfather back, and seeing as his birthday is coming up — he's notoriously hard to shop for, by the way— I think that would make a fitting gift." Noting that several of the newcomers had wands pointed at the man next to her, she smiled and waited for them to be lowered before continuing.

"Maybe Sirius will finally get his wish of being tied up by a woman too!"

At this, she turned and literally skipped away, her tightly coiled curls bouncing with every hop. He wasn't sure what got him more, her dulcet tone, or her unabashed directness.

He couldn't help it, his jaw dropped, his eyes bugged, he may have even drooled a little, not unlike the dog his brother was.

Hermione seemed to know he hadn't moved yet and threw a look over her shoulder, still shaking with silent laughter, "Well, are you coming or not?! We can even put a bow on his head... one of those big ones. Slytherin green, because you're helping—" she squared her shoulders and added authoritatively, "you are helping—" before adding a last minute "and as a bonus, it would piss him off!" With a roguish grin.

And suddenly he was a blur in motion. He really, really wanted to bring THAT mental image into reality

———

The scary brilliant witch, as Kreacher had taken to calling her, led the group into one of the sitting rooms, after collecting her friend The Potter. She crossed her arms and tapped her foot for everyone to stop murmuring and get settled. Eventually everyone complied.

"Alright, we are just waiting for Kingsley at this point, but he wasn't supposed to be by til later, and we suddenly have plans at the ministry, so I propose we take this party to him.

First, However, I would like to introduce the formerly unconscious man we found in an alcove in the library yesterday. No longer asleep, as you may see, is one Regulus Black.

Mr. Black is the younger brother of our own Sirius Black. Thought to be deceased after liberating one of Voldemort's horcruxes. Obviously, the deceased part has been disproved."

Allowing the group to digest this information, she turned to the man she had been speaking about and addressed him directly. "Regulus, this is Harry's and my group of ragtag friends that we call family. The redheaded bunch are Weasleys.

Fred and George are the twins, Ginny is the only girl, Ronald is the youngest boy. Their parents Arthur and Molly, who is the sister of the deceased former Aurors Gideon and Fabian Prewitt.

You know your cousin Andromeda, of course. The only other non readedheaded man in the room, correction: the one that's not in a uniform, is Neville Longbottom. And I'm sure you've met Minerva McGonagall; current headmistress at Hogwarts, transfiguration professor, embodiment of the Gryffindor way of life." At this, she smiled and winked at the woman she had just described, before leaving her post at the head of the gathering and walking over to the unnamed Aurors.

Hermione handed them a vial, probably containing the cure to the Draught of Living Death, Regulus thought. After a brief discussion the Aurors departed, looking a little green around the gills as the girl Weasley, who apparently overheard the conversation, was making kissy faces in their direction.

Regulus wasn't sure what to make of all the emotions in the room, growing up a Slytherin, not to mention a Black, had made shows of that sort rare. He wasn't so sure he minded it, though it would take some getting used to. He didn't have long to think about this though, because the next thing he knew the twin redheads had grabbed him by the arms and led him towards the floo.

"Nice to meet another formerly dead person," the one to his left laughed.

"Fred here was missing for a couple years, brought back to us by the same renegade product as you were." The other one continued.

"That's George, he made the amazing product along with the lovely Ms. Granger." They both laughed again.

He was saved in short order, by the lovely Ms. Granger herself. Grabbing him by the hand and yanking him free of their grasp, she chastised, "Now boys, it won't do to be traumatizing Sirius' brother. He was an original marauder, think of all the things he will never teach you if his long lost brother goes mad before we can rescue him from the bowels of the arch!" Turning to him she whispered, "They have a case of hero worship for Sirius. It's really quite funny."

"I'm sure." He returned dryly, making his voice go all gravely again.

Hermione laughed, thinking to herself that she may be coming down with something. Her stomach had been doing weird flips since the night before. It certainly couldn't be a certain tall, dark, and handsome someone, Merlin knows there's enough of them around lately. She was equally certain she was immune to the kind of charm they exuded. Hopefully.

Reaching the fireplace, she released his hand, sending him first through the floo before following.

———- 

Arriving in the ministry atrium, the group separated. Harry's group led the way to the ministers office. Hermione quickly made the excuse she had forgotton something in her office the last time she was in, and drug Regulus with her "so they could deal with Avery without distraction".

Her best friend had given her a strange look, but didn't argue.

The veil was actually rather close to her office, so it appeared that they were going there either way. A minute or so later Neville and Ginny caught up with them, having snuck off as well.

"Can't let you have all the fun!" Ginny explained. "You and the boys used to sneak off to do dangerous and stupid things all the time. I want a turn!"

Hermione laughed and slung an arm over the younger girls shoulder, "The more the merrier, Gin."

Neville walked silently with them, contemplating something internally. Finally, as they reached the door, he spoke, "Sirius was a friend to my parents, they would want me to do this... and he only came that day to save us, so I owe him. We owe him."

The girls nodded and smiled sadly, each laying a consoling hand on one of his arms.

"We weren't on the best of terms," Regulus pitched in, " but I am coming to see that I was a bit of an ass to my brother. I may owe him a bit too." Then, he was drawn into his first ever group hug. "But I still say we should leave him for a bit."

The hug released with a mix chuckles and exasperated groans, and they made their way into the room that housed the arch.

It was every bit as awe inspiring as the last time. The huge stone arch towered above them, the blackness of the veil seemed to blow in a wind that none of them could feel. The room was cold, causing the occupants of the room to shiver, and only serving to make the whole scene more ominous.

Regulus was the first to speak. "I really need to find my wand." He shook his head ruefully. "Ms. Granger, I will need your assistance."

She nodded in affirmation and he continued, "Alright, now repeat after me: Accio Sirius Black." She looked mildly surprised, but did as requested, only to be rewarded by an overwhelmingly loud burst of laughter. "Kidding, dear." He chuckled, "Just trying to relieve some of the depressing tension in this room."

He wasn't expecting to be smacked across the back of the head, but he shrugged it off, knowing he was deserving of the assault to his person.

"I like you, Black" Ginny declared.

The man grinned at her, "I'm rather partial to myself too." Before adopting a look that read as 'it's time to get down to business'. "Ok, for real this time. The three of you with wands form a triangle pointing away from the arch." He walked to the direct center of the gateway, toes brushing up against the billowing shadow fabric of the void. " Cast a basic portus charm at the middle of the arch, as soon as I say 'now' got it?"

Neville, Ginny, and Hermione shared a solemn look before nodding. "If this is another trick I'm sending a tripping jinx at you." Hermione added for good measure.

Regulus smiled and stated, "fair enough," as he bent down carefully in front of the veil. He removed a knife from his pocket and made a small incision on his right index finger, pressing the cut onto the family signet ring on his left hand, then pressing the signet ring into a groove in the direct center of the floor between the legs of the arch. "Now."

Three portus' hit the arch and the black inside it turned an ominous shade of green. "Now accio him," Regulus commanded, straining for some reason. Hermione guessed he was feeding his own power through his ring.

"Accio Sirius Black," she yelled determinedly.

The fabric of the veil started swirling, looking like some kind of barely contained Slytherin tornado. It was silent, even in motion, until what sounded like a slow clap started on the other side of the curtain.

The one and only Sirius Black walked out of the archway, through the swirling veil, clapping, until he dropped forward into a graceful bow. "Bravo, bravo, bravissimo!" The former Gryffindor declared, with his typical smirk. The second all motion in the veil ceased, and turned to black once more, was the moment Sirius Black laid eyes on his brother.

"Surprise...?" Hermione chuckled nervously.

The older Black, lunged at his younger brother, and Hermione drew her wand once more as they connected. Lowering it again as Sirius drew his brother into a fierce hug. "You will explain later." He said to no one in particular.


	9. A Present to Remember

————

Chapter Nine

————

A Present to Rememeber

————

"You will explain NOW!" The minister yelled angrily, standing in the doorway of the arch room. Apparently it's activation had triggered some sort of an alarm.

All eyes swiveled to the man standing imposingly before them.

"Kingsley..." Hermione stuttered, before changing her mind, "Minister, I... the Black family had knowledge of the veil not previously available to us. There was a chance... well" she was really not doing well on explaining this.

Taking a deep breath Hermione tried again, "Regulus, Sirius' brother had a working knowledge of the veil passed down through family magic. He wanted to save his brother, ok no, I demanded we save his brother after he stated he knew such things."

She gestured to the two nearly identical men standing to the side of the arch. "Minister Shacklebolt, I present Regulus Black. And, his knowledge was correct, as you can see."

The minister sighed. "Someone summon Auror Potter. He will want to see this." Turning to Hermione he grimaced, "Ms. Granger, clearly I was mistaken." The women looked smug, until he continued, "A vacation is the absolute worst thing to force upon you. And they say Harry has a way of finding trouble!" He proceeded to laugh as the smirk fell from her face, turning to a confused frown.

The Ministers attempt at humor was interrupted by an out of breath Unspeakable, hurrying their way. He was yelling, but was still far enough away the words were unintelligible. As the Unspeakable got closer, however, that problem was resolved. "Minister! Minister! Prophecy 7 has been fulfilled! The prophecy Minister! Prophecy 7–" the man collapsed at Kingsley's feet, as the Minister himself went white as a sheet.

"Please tell me," he said, "that you lot have nothing to do with this?"

He knew by the blank looks all around that no one had any clue what he was talking about. "We are not done with this discussion!" He stated with as much decorum as he could muster while taking off at a breakneck speed, levitating the unconscious Unspeakable behind him.

"Uh, anyone else want to know what prophecy 7 is that's so important?" Neville voiced what was on everyone's mind. No one had time to answer, however, as at that exact moment the boy who had impeccable timing arrived.

He looked at his friends questioningly. "What is so important I was summoned _here_, of all places?!"

Hermione barely caught the glint in Sirius' eyes before he was bringing whatever crazy idea had popped into his head to life.

Still standing unassumingly by the arch, partially covered from view by Regulus, Sirius began laughing maniacally. Grabbing onto Regulus and smacking his hands on his legs.

"And then I told the guy—", he said loudly, breaking off to look briefly over his shoulder, "oh, hi Harry— " then he looked back at his brother and continued like nothing was out of the ordinary. "I told the guy he had the wrong idea about me, I was not some random pop star with a ridiculous name! I mean Stubby Boardman...wow!" Sirius laughed again, "Can you believe that?! Me!?"

Harry just rolled his eyes and shook his head. "Funny, Sirius."

It took about 5 seconds for what he just said to really be comprehended by his brain. 5 seconds where everyone watched with amusement, enjoying the various looks of confusion that crossed his face. He did a double take, then two. A third. Then his mouth fell open. "Sirius?!"

"Give the man a prize!" The marauder laughed, walking over to wrap his godson up in a hug, complete with a ruffling of hair. "Did ya miss me or something?"

Harry, near tears, admitted just that, "You have no idea! You're not allowed to try to rescue me ever again!" They both laughed at that statement.

"No promises pup." The older man said fondly, "You do have quite the knack for finding trouble."

"Speaking of knacks..." Harry turned to look at Hermione, who just waved back, pretending to know nothing about anything. "Someone has a knack for bringing back the missing these days. Yes, I knew you were up to something Hermione. I didn't even think this was a possibility though... never in a million years. You, my dear, are like," he paused, thinking.

It was Fred, however, who came up with the end of Harry's sentence. "She's like... the Mistress of Life!" Everyone chuckled.

"What would that make me?" Harry asked, only half afraid of the answer.

George stepped forward this time, "Easy. Oh savior of the wizarding world, boy who lived to see many more days, slayer of dark lords." He paused for effect, "Since you are the ying to Miss Grangers Yang, and the other half to her whole... if she is the Mistress of Life then you... you, dear sir, are the Master of Death."

Hermione thought that was funny, but for a different reason than most of their friends.

Dumbledore had left her that '_Tales of the Beedle and the Bard_' book , with the deathly hollows connotations. She had researched them extensively.

Harry owned what she believed to be _the_ cloak. He had gained mastership over the Elder Wand, even if he didn't claim it. Also, he possessed the Resurrection Stone, despite the many times he tried to lose it. Thus, according to legend, he was truly the Master of Death. Or could be if he _wanted_ to be.

But her? The Mistress of Life? That was absurd! Bring back three missing people, presumed to be dead, through an accident no less, and apparently the nicknaming process gets a little— dramatic.

Regardless, she decided to play along. Walking up to George, Hermione adopted a serious, haughty tone. "Very well, from now on when you address me, you will do so as Mistress." She declared, looking at him through her eyelashes, before winking. The redhead blushed so hard his face nearly matched his hair.

"Sounds perfect," Regulus called from his spot by the arch, while George was busy trying to retain his composure, "now you can fulfill the other half of your evil plan, Mistress!" He laughed heartily, grinning in anticipation.

Hermione chuckled, she had nearly forgotten about the plan she had jokingly made with Regulus before rescuing Sirius. "Perfect!" She declared with an almost evil grin.

Wordlessly, and without warning, Hermione threw two spells at the oldest Black sibling, sending him flying to the ground. "Hey!" He yelped as he thrashed helplessly on the floor, finding himself bound in silver ropes.

Another spell struck him and he yelled "My hair! Not my hair!" Feeling something happening on his head. More thrashing, "Hermioneeee!"

"That's Mistress, remember?" She chuckled. "Nice bow, by the way."

She conjured a camera, and snapped a picture, or a dozen of the man prone on the floor, with a giant, Slytherin green bow intricately braided into his hair. She knew those hair charms would come in handy some day. "Happy early birthday Harry!"

"You shouldn't have!" He laughed, tears streaming down his face, mouthing "Thank you". She smiled softly at her best friend, and nodded. She was so happy to have been able to pull this off for him.

"You really shouldn't have!" Sirius echoed, glaring, "I will get you for this! —And your little cat too!"

It was at that point Hermione realized she had forgotten something. After all, no birthday present was complete without a card! She waved her wand once again. At first nothing appeared to be happening, then a piece of what appeared to be duct tape flew out of her wand, and landed over Sirius' mouth. Upon inspection, it was inscribed: "To Harry 3 Hermione".

"Perfect!" She nodded, taking one last picture. Then, without bothering to free the man on the floor, she traipsed out of the room, humming 'happy birthday' to the sound of raucous laughter.

Hermione had a feeling that she had just started a prank war of epic proportions. But, in her opinion, it was worth it.

————

Meanwhile in the Hall of Prophecies

————

He thought being Minister would be easy. Okay, maybe not easy, but easier than this. Their world had just ended a war that spanned decades, the people could breathe easier now, get back to being happy and all that jazz. It should have been, well— whatever it should have been...was not this.

Of course, he was made aware of the 7th prophecy when he became minister, but as a part of Merlin's Seven Prophecies, unfulfilled for millennia, he was assured that there was virtually no chance they'd be fulfilled during his time as Minister. That assurance, it seemed, was incorrect. At least for the Seventh prophecy. Fulfilled this very morning.

That fact itself was worrying, as the only records on file about the first 7 prophecy's in the hall was that they were made by Merlin himself—Merlin, who devised a way of recording prophecies inside Chrystal balls. One that no one could access but those involved in the prophecy— and that they were a sort of countdown, to what no one had thought to record.

Thanks Merlin!

So, now that the 7th prophecy had been fulfilled, they would have to search for the people involved in said prophecy. Then they, if luck was on their side, would be able to see its contents— and maybe the contents of the other six. Then, and only then, could he know just how much trouble the wizarding world was in for now,

The only problem, ok not the only problem... the most difficult part of the problem, was finding the people in the prophecy. As they were labeled only as the "Mistress of Life" and the "Master of Death". That just sounded so— pleasant.

But, as Minister, he had to do it. Luckily he knew the smartest Unspeakable in the land. Hopefully she was still inside the ministry.

"To Hermione," he instructed his patronus, "Please meet me in the Hall of Prophecies at you're earliest convenience."

After all these years, the little Lynx that was his patronus still awed him. As he watched it stalk away, he sat down and placed his head in his hands with an exhausted sigh.

Seconds later a voice cheerily announced, "The Mistress of Life, at your service!" and the room went black.

————

Hermione rushed to the Ministers side. Sending a quick patronus to Harry, begging him to come quickly. She cast a _renervate_, wondering just what was going on.

Why had her old friend reacted like that? And then she spotted the orb on the table.

"What's going on?" Harry gasped, running into the room. Eyes wide, Hermione pointed at Kingsley, who was just beginning to stir, then at the crystal ball on the table.

"The Mistress of Life... and the Master of... seriously?" He broke off, in anger.

Harry, looked up at the ceiling, like he was ranting to the Heavens. "I just want one normal year! I mean... my parents... Voldemort... the stupid stuff at school... the man who wouldn't stay dead... Auror training... rounding up renegade minions of the dead lord... now this?!" He gestured to the orb, "What now?!"

Now crouching to the ground, he stared upward once again. Hands raised, he asked, "What do you want from me?" in the most exasperated voice Hermione had ever heard come from him.

"What now indeed." Kingsley echoed in shock.

Hermione, eyes wide, but determined nonetheless, reached for Harry's hand and pulled him back to a standing position. "Not you," She said, staring into his eyes, "Us." She paused for a moment, giving him a brief smile, "Whatever it is, we will handle it like we do best—together."

He bobbed his head, resigned, as she placed their entwined hands on the crystal ball, and they were thrust into its depths.

———— 

Much like a pensieve, the crystal balls record events, that can be observed but not interacted with. What you see is what you get, sometimes fortunately, sometimes unfortunately.

This case was definitely the latter, at least for Hermione. What she would give to be able to converse with Merlin himself, who they suddenly found themselves thrust before.

"He doesn't look anything like his pictures," Harry commented of the young, dark haired man in the unremarkable stone room before them.

The man had hair of a reddish brown so dark it was almost black. Straight, and flatteringly cut to accentuate his well defined face. High cheekbones rested underneath the palest skin, highlighting the depths of his bright blue-green eyes, surrounded by long, dark lashes, all peeking out from behind the long fringe that was his bangs.

When he spoke, it was nearly musical:

"The Master of Death,

And the Mistress of Life,

Their Scarlett haired pair,

And their pair dark as night.

Three had been lost,

As the Master claimed his title,

Three have been found

Despite the Mistress' Denial.

New lives begin

as fate and time bend.

What's past has passed,

But cannot be completed

Until the time, lost in time

When the last piece is eaten.

The titles thus bestowed,

The countdown begins

A chain of events,

Ending Within."

The young Merlin, coming from his trance, then appears to look right at them as they are thrust from the orb, his last words echoing around them. "Good luck."

————

They had disappeared into the orb on the table, right in front of his eyes. Kingsley had had the sneaking suspicion that they were involved with this, as soon as the news had reached his ears of the prophecy being fulfilled. He, like Harry, had been hoping for an uneventful year, but it seemed it was not meant to be.

And so, the Minister of the British Wizarding world waited, with baited breath, for the two young people he had grown to be so fond of to reappear from the depths of the orb.


	10. The 7 Prophacies of Merlin- iProphecy 7

Chapter Ten-

————

The Seven Prophecies of Merlin

-Part One-

The Seventh Prophecy 

————

The orb spat them out, far from gracefully, at the feet of the Minister. Before he could even speak, Hermione was summoning paper and a pen. There was no time for inking and general quill drama.

The two men, and a handful of Unspeakables that had gathered during their time in the prophecy, waited silently for her to finish transcribing their experience. Of course, she did so in the utmost of detail.

Finishing, she heaved a breath, "Okay. So... what I know, is that we know nothing."

She took a moment to copy her work, and distributed it to everyone present. "The Scarlett pair, and the pair dark as night..." she quoted, waiting for them to get to that part.

"Fred and George- the Weasley twins," Harry threw in, "and Sirius and Regulus would be a pair of brothers with the last name Black, dark as night, not to mentioned their hair..."

The minister nodded, "Well, three of them were missing and have now been found. All lost during Voldemort's supposed reign, that Harry was the one to end. I guess I could see the Master of Death thing..." he trailed off.

"I'm afraid it's more complicated Kings." Hermione whispered.

Harry tried to stop her, afraid of what it would mean for everyone to know his secret family legacy. But she silenced him with a look, saying "It's important Harry." And he reluctantly nodded his permission to continue.

She explained about the Hallows. The cloak, the wand, and the stone. His denial to wield them, despite his being claimed by them. There was no other way to phrase it, as one of the items was never far from his hand anyway, but the other two seemed to always find him. "Harry is the Master of Death. Literally. If you believe the legends." She concluded.

"And what of that next bit?" The minister asked, trying to change the subject quickly. "Time bending and such?"

As the other Unspeakables made whispered predictions amongst each other, Hermione was the one who spoke, loudly, and clearly. "My experiment, sir, I'm afraid. What's past is passed, so everything that's going to happen has already happened, and time and space are currently bending, as things that have to happen are being made to happen. Sirius, Regulus and Fred had to be here for the timeline to play out as intended, but they weren't. I, apparently bent time and space to bring them back so they could fulfill their— uh—" she really hated this word, "destiny. I can't think of another way to say it."

He nodded, disbelief apparent in his features, "And the time lost in time?"

"The experiment sir, I assume. It's practically time in a bottle." She got silent for a moment before continuing, "and it's lost in time. Sirius used it to dare Regulus into that game in 1980, who used it to pull in friends to play the game with, one being one of the Lestrange brothers.

He, in turn, used it on a dare to permanently charm muggle funny face glasses onto Voldemort. Unfortunately they didn't stay for his second incarnation. Not sure what happened after that, but I'm working on it.

Who knows where or when it will end up. Apparently, according to the last line of the prophecy, when we reach that point, something inside us— or the experiment— will have changed?"

He did not look impressed, but tried to joke anyway, "You're grounded til you're 200 young lady!"

The Unspeakables began to file out, to discuss the prophecy in their own meeting places, trying to decipher it further. There were six more prophesies to view, but this was a good start.

Hermione grabbed Harry by the arm, trying to leave with the Unspeakables, but made it only two steps before being stopped, not by a person, but by a flash of light.

At first, she thought it was the Prinkles, no longer lost in time. Which would have disproved her theory, but absolved her of further punishment for losing them. Alas, when the item that appeared in her hands also appeared in Harry's, she knew it was something else entirely. Scrolls.

"They're from Gringotts," noted Harry, pulling his open and beginning to read. "Upon the fulfillment of stipulations to the Seventh Prophecy of Merlin, Gringotts is required to open the corresponding vault. As a key subject of this prophecy, you are hereby to be named a key holder for this vault. This parchment is a portkey and will transport you to the Goblin in charge of this account, Silvertongue—"

Apparently the last word was the activator, because as he said the goblins name, Harry spun away.

————

He arrived in an opulent office, still screaming. Hermione popped in just after him, followed by the Weasley twins, and the Black brothers. "Harry!" Fred yelled, "you aren't dying, shut up!"

Harry looked abashed. "Sorry! That really should have come with a warning! Activated it on accident, haha."

"Try not reading magical scrolls aloud in the future, yes?" Stated an unfamiliar, yet soothing voice.

Turning, the group noticed the Goblin in the room for the first time. Perched on a gilded chair, in the finest clothing any of them had ever seen on a Goblin, was a petite, little Goblin. "Sorry! Are you Silvertongue?" Harry questioned.

He gave a nod, "Yes, I am indeed. And you are the subjects of Merlin's seventh?" The group nodded in return. "I have waited a long time for this moment." The Goblin confessed.

"Before the Goblin wars, my family lived in the same kingdom as the witches and wizards, peacefully. We were equals." He began, his eyes growing unfocused as he pictured times long ago.

"My father's father, and his father, and those before him, worked with Merlin's descendants. My family protected the prophecies. There came a time when it was no longer safe to have connections to such glorified people as Merlin, family or otherwise.

This being the case, especially so for Merlin's family, and so all of the evidence was hidden, and the wizarding family of Emery's went into hiding. The heir of the name went into the muggle world, and adopted the name of Evans, Emery Evans, to be exact. He married the daughter of the Gryffindor lineage, and had children who bore Scarlett hair.

The second son of the house of Emery's married a daughter of Slytherin Lineage, and took her last name, as it was not attached to such high profile prestige as his own. They became the house of Black.

The daughter of the house of Emery's, Helen, married into the Dagworth family. Eventually becoming the Dagworth-Grangers.

The youngest son, married a woman of Ravenclaw descent, whose daughter married a man of Gryffindor descent, who had changed his name to Prewitt. Because bravery, he said, always came before wit.

There were many branches, through time, that crossed, many whose lines died out completely, and a few who are still hiding. But back to that generation!

The children learned magic at home for a time, in an attempt to avoid the magical world itself and still keep their traditions and magic strong. After the second wave of the burning times, though, even that became too dangerous. The family convened and made the decision to bind their magic for 13 generations. Only a few branches opted out of this decision, rejoining the wizarding world to try the luck with the theory of 'safety in numbers'.

During this period, the Goblin wars happened, and the majority of the family was lost. Not to death, but just not where we left them. Unable to find them again we continued to care for the vaults, and hoped the prophecy would be activated so we could once more continue our forsworn duty.

Since then, besides the lines that abstained from binding, only a couple descendants have been magical. Because their power, even bound, was to great to stay contained. And thus Lily Evans, of the house of Emery's, despite being in the 12th generation after the binding, came into the wizarding world. Ms. Granger, you as well, as a few others of your house, you may have heard of Hector Dagworth-Granger...?" Finished with the history portion of his tale, the Goblin turned towards a knob, sticking out of the wall. Spun it in a series of motions, obviously some sort of passcode, and the wall itself slid open. "Follow me" he said to the group at large.

One by one, they pressed into the square enclosure that had previously been behind the wall. After everyone was in, the wall swung back into place, and the Goblin spoke, to no one in particular, "vault 7, please."

It was like a muggle elevator, Hermione marveled, as they plunged downward into the depths of Gringotts. It felt like as rickety as the carts though, she grumbled, they could have at least put some seats to help with the constant feeling you were about to pitch over.

"So what you are telling me," She addressed the Goblin, "is that we are the descendants of Merlin?"

"And Morgana." The Goblin nodded, "Give or take a few Hogwarts founders, yep."

"What about our other siblings?" Fred asked. "Shouldn't they be here too? And Sirius and Regulus' cousins, also Blacks."

The Goblin grinned. "Very astute of you, good questions, good questions!" He clapped his hands together then sat cross-legged in the floor. "Okay So we know that the oldest sibling is generally the heir, and if there are more Lordships then they go by birth order and get distributed, the first gets the current family name, the next gets the mothers family, third mothers mothers, etc." they nodded and the Goblin continued.

"This is different. The families made themselves extinct, purposefully and named heirs far into the future, to bring them back out of extinction." He paused, "So, your siblings, while genetically descended from Merlin Emery's also, are not heirs to the name. The brothers Black, although descended the same, are, on only one side of the Black family related to Merlin, although I see more resemblance to Morgana there, no offense... but only they inherit because they were named. Understand?"

The wizards looked confused, but nodded all the same.

Hermione spoke, with a quizzical look in her face, "So, what? This is some sort of delayed inheritance?"

The Goblin sobered, "No, this is prophecy. You must claim your titles as Master of Death and Mistress of Life, and you each need two witnesses, one from each specified bloodline. Scarlett and Night."

"I call Sirius!" Harry yelled, making the Goblin cover his ears.

Hermione shook her head, "Fine by me, I like Regulus better anyway." She said, laughing and sticking her tongue out at Harry, before turning to the Goblin who had just uncovered his ears,"Sorry about him, he's got ...problems."

As quickly as the ride started, it stopped, and they all filed out into what appeared to be a dimly lit cave, with a stone door adorned with the numeral seven. Harry was still grumbling about his "problems", when the Goblin grabbed his hand and sliced his right index finger, placing it on an indentation in the door. He gestured for Hermione to do the same on the other side, and as soon as she complied, the door was simply... gone.

"Welcome to Emery's Castle." The Goblin stated. "Where we will complete the rite."

Regulus was before the elf in a flash, "A rite—Like a Blood Rite? Forbidden since the burning times?"

The Goblin laughed, "Forbidden for most, yes. But these are ancient family grounds, consecrated in the blood of your forebears, riddled with lay-lines, and grounded by lodestones. Within these parameters, blood rites are perfectly legal, even without the prophecy demanding them. I dare say this is the only property left where these conditions can be found. Otherwise, you would indeed be correct, young Master Black."

The Goblin led the group through stone corridors, thick with spiderwebs and dust, and out a towering set of iron doors. They found themselves surrounded by rolling green hills as far as the eye could see. If they would have looked back, they would have seen a sight to behold. A castle, grander than Hogwarts by leagues, but that was not on the agenda today.

Around the corner of the building, they found a grove of trees, arranged in a circle around a stone with a sword stuck in the very center of it.

"Excalibur" Breathed Hermione, staring at the sight in front of her, as the Goblin guided Her and Harry to opposite sides of the stone.

"Kneel" demanded the Goblin. They complied willingly, still in awe. "Knights, eh witnesses..." he pointed on either side of each person. The Black siblings were positioned by the direction the sun sets. The Weasley's, by the direction it rises.

"Kneel," Silvertongue demanded again, and all parties complied.

Hermione looked up at Regulus and George, and gave them a reassuring smile.

"I get the feeling life is never going to be boring with you lot around." Regulus quipped. George threw in "You have no idea."

The Goblin began chanting in an ancient tongue, causing runes to swirl around inside the stone. He became louder, and they began to climb its blade.

Of their own accord, Hermione and Harry's right hands lifted in the air, swiping the blade of Excalibur, drawing a line of blood across each palm. Their hands came to rest on the stone.

The Weasley twins repeated the action, hands entwined on the hilt, just as the blue runes reached it. Then, the Black brothers, placing one their left hands on the stone and their right hands on the forehead of their respective charges.

At that point the runes all bled together, becoming a swirling mass of blue light, exploding from the stone and into those touching it and then into the sword. Out of the sword and into those touching it. Out of the Black Brothers, into Harry and Hermione, then back into the stone again.

Just when they thought they could take no more, everything just— stopped— and they found themselves in Silvertongue's office once again.

———-

"This has got to be a dream." Harry deadpanned. "What did that blasted elf put in the dreamless sleep potion?! It's like... the never ending dream sleep potion."

The Goblin before him laughed, which, as anyone who's ever met a Goblin would tell you, is an incredibly scary sight. More of a gnashing of sharp, pointy teeth, with accompanying angry yipping noises than any sort of human laughter. "This is no dream young Master Potter."

Harry looked crestfallen, "I was afraid you'd say that, Silvertongue." Gathering what was left of his Gryffindor bravery, he asked the question that needed to be asked. "So, where do we go from here?"

The Goblin before him did a strange little half bow before answering. "Very good Master Potter."

He once again perched himself on the ornate chair, "The rite you just completed was an ancient one. It represented your acceptance of the titles bestowed upon you by the universe, yours and Mistress Grangers. However, it also did the same for your friends.

Your Scarlett Knights, the Weasley brothers, took up arms in the tradition of their Gryffindor kin. As you will note," he gestured to the twins, "they now bear the scabbards and blades of their forefathers.

The Black brothers, took up their roles as advisors, in the custom of their Slytherin kin. As you will note," he gestured now to the other pair of siblings, "they now bear the mark of the tree of life upon their left forearm. Morgana's influence, if I remember correctly. Left, because it is closer to the heart, as I assume you were wondering Miss Granger."

She smiled and nodded. Her expression changed quickly, however, as she noted one tiny detail. This was the only mark on Regulus' left forearm. "And this mark...cancels out all others?" She questioned.

The Goblin beamed. "This mark, gained in this manner, belies the ultimate purity of the bond. Therefore, it cleanses the bearer of any— impurities, if you will, that could conflict with the duties of the position.

Master Regulus had the mark of the halfblood scum, yes. It was deemed harmful to the bond, impure as it were, and thus it ceased to exist. The ritual itself does much the same to all parties though." The Goblin said solemnly.

"All of you had been through a great deal of trauma over the last years. I expected the stone to recognize this and— compensate.

Master Fred had been confined, solitary and without magic for years, his soul and his core were damaged.

Master George had physical ailments, and mental, from the grief of his belief that he had lost his brother forever, and the anger that he was powerless to change this situation.

Master Sirius spent time in Azkaban, after having gone through the trauma of losing his friends that he considered family, because of the actions of another friend and brother. He lost you, Harry, and then he sacrificed himself to save you.

Master Regulus had the dark lords mark, and the residual effects from not only that, but the potion from the cave of the inferi.

Both Black brothers had residual effects from curses inflicted upon them in their younger years.

Mistress Granger, you were dealing with aftershocks of wearing the damaged pieces of the dark lords soul. Spell damage from the war. You had been petrified by a basilisk. And childhood trauma, undoubtedly from being raised in a world where you were destined to fail, because you were never meant to fit in there.

Master Harry, your childhood left you a broken man mentally, emotionally, and physically. Your adolescence exposed you to damaged soul bits, more than one, even one inside yourself. You had been infected by basilisk venom. You had been cursed by the most lethal spells known to wizardkind.

All of you gave willingly of yourselves, and in return you were all absolved of your burdens. This is the way of the stone that encases Excalibur."

It was like a fantasy novel, come to life, reflected Hermione later. They were on a mission, yet unknown, but a mission nonetheless.

They were probably unprepared, she admitted. Most definitely undeserving. But for some stupid reason life, or the universe, as Silvertongue would say, really liked to throw these things at them.

The beginning of this journey, however, brought a newness that they all so desperately had needed. One so profound and pure that they would go along for the ride, clinging to the new starts they had each been granted. At least, it was decided, for now.

———

In 1980, a distraught Bellatrix Lestrange was pouting.

Her husband had fed her some strange cracker, and she had been forced to admit her love another man, the Dark Lord nonetheless, in front of a whole room full of people! Her Lord, already knew this, of course, but she was married and it was improper to have so many tongues wagging about her private affairs!

Her husband, on the other hand, was mad for a whole other reason. Purebloods rarely marry for love, though, so why did he expect that she would be declaring her undying love for him!?

To make matters worse, he had then fed his brother one of his crackers. They must have been dosed with some sort of potion that acts like the imperious, because the next thing Bellatrix knew, Rabastan Lestrange had her at wandpoint and she suddenly found herself in possession of the fanciest charmed mustache in all the land!

At the moment, it was so long it nearly reached her chin, and it had fairy lights glowing inside of it. Merlin only knows what the blasted thing would morph into next!

It just wasn't fair!

Her husband had stormed off on some sort of a mission, ranting about saving the face of Bella's one true love, before he killed him. So maybe, she equally hoped and feared, she wasn't alone in her humiliation.

Now that she thought on it, however, she hadn't seen her Dark Lord for nearly a week. She decided to remedy that immediately. Maybe he was hungry, after all she saw where her idiot husband had left his charmed crackers. She was hoping to figure out how to make them work, so she could figure out how to get rid of her new facial ornament. It would be a welcome bonus, she thought, if she could use them to convince her lover to do away with her husband too.

Unfortunately, however, she was only able to remove one of the crackers. It appeared that the container was charmed, but one was better than none, she decided. Bellatrix would just have to see how it went, and go from there.

She knew where he was, by the sound of screams echoing through the stone hallways. If she made a wrong turn, the noise would die down, as she grew closer, they grew louder. It was like audio foreplay to her demented mind.

As she made her way stealthily into the room, she took in the sight before her. It was all she could do to neither laugh, nor cry. "Well," she finally announced loudly, "aren't we a pair."

He looked at her mustache, as she looked at his face, which was covered in a false nose, and large eyebrows, the defining attraction —glasses painted with unblinking, childlike eyes— being directly in the center of the two.

As he looked at her, and she at him, their mouths began to twitch, and before either of them knew what was happening, they were both laughing uproariously. The formerly screaming man, taking the welcome distraction, crawled out of the room.

A stranger sight had never been seen, except, maybe, the sight that followed next.

By the romantic glow of her facial fairy lights, the beautiful, mustachioed woman, kissed the man with the large, unblinking baby eyes. Carefully, so as to avoid the overhang of his overly large prosthetic nose, lest it tangle in her luscious lip hair.

As they parted, she pressed the cracker to his lips, and he indulged her, eating it in one bite.

Suddenly, as if overcome with inspiration, he decided he needed to seek the advice of a potioneer, for their misfortunate maladies. He wished that the man old Professor Slughorn was always blabbering on about — what was his name? Hector, something or other, Dagger? Dagworth! No, two names, Hector Dagworth-Granger! That was it. — hadn't kicked the bucket years ago. Surely he would know how to fix this inglorious mishap.

Oh well, he had plenty of ideas all the sudden. He was just so— inspired! He needed to paint, or write something, maybe a song for b-b-b-beautiful b-b-b-Bellatrix. Yes! He was onto something, he just knew it.

As the baby eyed dark lord grabbed the hand of his mustachioed lover, leading her in search of a piano or something of the like, the container of "crackers" disappeared once more with an ominous green flash of light.

————


	11. The Past is Closer Than You Think

**Chapter 11**

————

The Past is Closer Than You'd Think

————

Sometime in the 1930's

Hector Emery Pendragon Granger Dagworth was in his potions lab pondering, once again, on how odd it was that potions could produce almost any genuine emotion other than love.

He was staring at the opalescent potion known as amortentia, when a flash of light deposited a cylindrical object directly in front of him. Carefully, he grabbed it, intending to study it further, when the idea struck for his next potion.

Forget love! He absolutely had to make a potion that could reverse unintended permanent transfigurations. Maybe something that could revert the drinker to their original form, no matter the cause. That could have so many uses; spell damage, lycanthropy, vampirism, malnourishment or disease, even those stuck in their animangus form! The possibilities were endless.

Of course unicorn blood could accomplish most of these things, but that was generally frowned upon. Maybe he would name it something like that though, as a nod to progress from dark times. Yes, yes, he would call this new potion Pegasus Tears.

Like the healing tears of the Phoenix, the majestic winged birds, and the blood of the unicorn, the horned equines, throw in a dash of Arthurian legend and it was perfect!

He was getting ahead of himself though. First, he realized, he would need a stack of parchment, and something to write with. He had some parameters to write down, and a list of ingredients to compile. First of which would be actual Phoenix tears, as it was a good place to start.

For hours he paced, and he pondered. Then for days he measured, stirred and observed. Finally, he was nearing the time to test, when he realized he had forgotten one thing. Test subjects!

He would owl Mungos right away! After that, there was nothing to do but wait. Or was there? Unthinkingly, he opened the cap of the cylinder, and popped one of its contents into his mouth.

At that point he decided he had far too many names, and simply had to drop two of them. Yes, Hector Dagworth-Granger was less of a mouth full. He vaguely wondered where the thought had come from, but brushed it aside as un-important.

"Maybe my son would think he had too many names too. I should suggest he be just— a Granger. For simplicity's sake." He spoke aloud, although no one was there to hear him. As soon as the words were uttered, the cylinder disappeared from his hands.

The old potioneer, however, had seen stranger things in his life, so he just shrugged and went back to his potion. While he waited for the reply from St. Mungo's, he would try to make a few variations of the Pegasus Tears potion. Easier to brew, and for more specific applications.

Like... petrification, and other such maladies. Yes, he had some mandrakes that may make a good modification. He would call it the Mandrake Restorative Potion. And he got to work again.

————

Back at Grimmauld Place, Harry and Hermione sat sipping a cup of tea.

"I don't get it." Harry murmured, "How can we affect the past from the present? Or, I don't know, is everything already done and we just have to... play a cosmic game of catch up?"

Hermione chuckled, "Careful Harry, you're starting to make too much sense!" Sighing, she tried to think of an explanation. "You're pretty close, actually. Remember when we used the time turner and saved Buckbeak?" He nodded affirmatively.

"So, before we'd even spun the ring on the hourglass, your patronus had shown itself. All the events leading us to go back in time had already occurred in our timeline, and had already influenced it. You influenced the timeline, before you even had any idea it was possible to go back in time. And we had no idea we had even done so, until we went back and figured out that it was us all along so we just... followed our own lead." Hermione smiled, "You know, you're the one, all those years ago, that got me doubting the existence of time loops and alternate realities?"

Harry laughed outright at that, "I do now. Add another chalk line to my tally of how many times I changed the world while being oblivious."

"I've lost count, frankly," she admitted, mindlessly twirling a spoon around inside the cup. Suddenly she groaned, "I forgot I have to go pick a new room. Regulus has been nice about it, but it was his first."

As she stood from her perch on the chair, she remembered a thought from weeks ago, "You know, I had decided to redo the decor in there, but kept finding other things to do instead. Pity, really, he surely would have loved to come back to a Gryffindor themed room!"

"There's still time!" Harry laughed while coughing, having nearly choked on his last sip of tea, before standing to help her.

She pictured the Slytherin's reaction to such an action, and described it out loud on their way up the stairs, "Oh hey Regulus, you can have your room back now, thank you so much for your hospitality. He walks to the door, ready to be back in the familiarity of his own space, and promptly passes out at the burgundy and gold assaulting his senses, before even noticing the cozy arm chairs that replaced the floor cushions in the reading nook. What a pity!"

"What's a pity?" The topic of their discussion asked, walking around the corner in front of them.

"Uh," Hermione stutters, mumbling something about his room, and blushing heavily at being caught. At the same time, Harry opened his mouth and said, "Hermione got cozy chairs for your reading nook!"

Regulus was regarding them like they'd suddenly grown to be two heads on one body. "You know, Hermione, you don't have to move out." He leant in and whispered in her ear, twirling a strand of her hair around his fingers. "We could always share."

She squeaked in response, before turning and fleeing to the safety of her room. His room. Whatever, he wasn't getting it right now! The sound of the two boys laughing followed her all the way.

After they heard the door click shut, Harry turned to the other man and his laughter suddenly stopped. "That was good, but well, I'm sorry for your room." He consoled the other man.

Regulus shrugged, "It's just armchairs." At the look on Harry's face he quickly added, "What?!"

Harry was laughing again. "Nothing Reg. Just... hope you like red. She was kidding at first, then I jokingly suggested she do it but... she might just do it, now that you— Reg?" The former Slytherin had taken off, quickly, in the direction of his room. "Regulus!" Harry hollered after him.

————

Harry was right, it turned out. Hermione did suddenly find the idea very appealing. Gone was the plain, dark bed. Replaced with an ornate, gilded gold four-poster bed. Blood red brocade covered its surface, as well as mountains of ornate throw pillows.

She had just charmed the walls in a delicate cream, French paneled style, complete with gilded gold accents, when the banging started. Smirking to herself, she continued, pretending not to hear Regulus frantically calling her name.

She charmed the flooring to an aged walnut color, and summoned some antique Persian rugs she had noticed in a storage room the other day.

The ceiling, she decided, would look better charmed to show the night sky, so she made it happen, quickly.

White and gold, damask curtains replaced the heavy ones previously covering the widows. Gold hooks appeared for holding the tie backs, which were now blood red cords.

The final touch, she thought maliciously would be his reading nook. All the shelves turned cream, to match the walls, under her precise wand work. The cushions were last, and she did indeed turn them into cozy, yet stylish, red wingback chairs.

The pounding continued, she noticed, and with a final glance at her handiwork, she threw herself onto the bed, before wandlessly opening the door. "Oh, Regulus! What are you doing out there?!" She asked innocently. Gesturing next to her she asked, "Still fancy sharing?"

He appeared to be gobsmacked.

After a while, waiting for a response that never came, she decided to poke the beast and levitated him into the room, laying him down gracelessly onto the bed. "You'll catch flies with your mouth open like that, you know."

He stared at her. Still unspeaking, until another voice sounded from the hallway. "Nice color choices! Much better." Sirius called in passing.

"I agree." The younger black sibling said softly. "Well, it is much better. Your style is impeccable... your color choices, however," he continued, waving his hand through the air, "hmm... yes much better. Now we can share!" He declared, laying his head on her shoulder.

It was then she realized that he had changed all the red in the room to emerald green with that innocent wave of his hand.

"Not bad." She complimented. She actually liked the color combination. "But I'm the little spoon."

She knew she was pushing her luck, but she wanted to get him back for catching her off guard.

"As you wish—Mistress." He chuckled, winking at her as he pushed himself up and flipped her over at the same time. He then pulled her against his chest and slung an arm over her as if it were a perfectly ordinary occurrence. Merlin help her, her plan was backfiring spectacularly!

So, she said the only thing she could think of with her head going all fuzzy between the ears. "I'm a mudblood you know."

He chuckled again. He really needed to stop doing that, she decided. It was worse than his saccharine voice. Worse yet when his hand started idly stroking her arm. "Sure you are, dear, the Muggleborn girl from the houses of Granger and Emerys. Totally plausible. Maybe a halfblood. Not that it matters anyways.

Sirius made many good points for many years, he left his family over it...and I lived among pure blood fanatics for just as long. I'm not blind, as much as I wish I could be sometimes. I see the good and the bad of both sides, truly. I just... I'm neutral. I'm not a muggle lover like your friends dad, but I'm not a blood fanatic like my mother either."

She had to get out of this room! Suddenly inspiration struck. "Wanna go tell her portrait that? She'd love it. She'll be singing your praises for days... ha!"

Before she knew what was happening she was curled up in a ball trying to get away from the sensation. He was tickling her, relentlessly! She screamed, laughing so hard tears streamed down her face. "S-s-stop! Regulus! Stop it right now!"

"But Mistress, I love it when you scream my name!" He laughed.

"Ughhh! Mercy, mercy, please just stop it!" She begged, still laughing.

Footsteps pounded down the hallway, and Regulus quickly acted like he did nothing, knew nothing, saw nothing. In a blur, Harry entered the room, panting. "I heard yelling... what's going on?" He asked, hands on his knees.

"Nooothing?" Regulus answered, his smirk giving away his guilt, "Say, Harry, did you know Hermione is ticklish?"

"Yes, very." He breathed in relief, sitting on the edge of the bed, "sounded like she was dying and you were to be the one to blame." Harry took a moment to look around, eyebrows raising minutely as he took in the change in the room. "Nice decor."

"Team effort," The younger Black shrugged, "We're 'sharing' apparently?"

Hermione was being awfully quiet and both boys were finding it immensely amusing. It wasn't often she didn't have a comment.

"I always loved slumber parties." Harry deadpanned, collapsing next to her. "Oh! Looks like I get to be the little spoon!"

Somehow Harry's presence calmed her enough that she found her voice once again, and the zoo animal sized butterflies that had begun to parade around inside her stomach began to settle. "Goody! I've never been in the middle before."

Regulus gasped. "Wait. You two? In here?" He was suddenly feeling out of his depth. This was supposed to be his safe area!

"Oh, yes," Hermione confirmed. "Harry and I sleep together all the time!" Harry, who at that moment was struggling very hard not to laugh.

"In here!" Regulus squeaked, in a strangled voice, gesturing to his bed.

Sirius picked that moment to barge in as well, "All three of you now?" He shook his head. "And you didn't invite me? Frankly, I'm hurt. First the prank, from my own brother and the hellcat over there— Yes, you've graduated from Kitten, I'm so proud. — now this!"

"It's a sleepover," Harry supplied helpfully, wiggling his eyebrows in a mock suggestive manner.

That was all the invitation Sirius Black ever needed. "I'm in!" He declared, making a running leap that none of them had time to avoid, coming to land right on top of all of them, while yelling, "Doggy pile!"

The strange flirting competition that no one was ever going to win, over, at least momentarily, they all dissolved into giggles. Especially as Regulus was still trying to get a straight answer as to if anything sexual had happened on his bed during his absence, while refusing to use words that were specific enough to warrant one.

Finally, when Sirius had swaggered out of the room, declaring he was going on a date with some firewhisky, he took pity on his little brother. "They're just friends, for Merlin's sake!" He yelled over his shoulder. And the giggles began again.

Deciding to join his godfather later, Harry got up, pulling Hermione with him, and, after summoning her things, made for the door. "I've got to find a new room too, and I think I know just the answer for the both of us"

"But—" Regulus pouted jokingly. "I thought we were having a sleepover?"

Hermione smiled lazily at him, then reached back to ruffle his hair in the way that both Black brothers abhorred, "In your dreams Reg." With a wink, she let Harry pull her from the room.

"Thank you for saving me!" Hermione huffed. "He... ugh! He's just like Sirius, only not as in your face about it. Unflappable and flirty. I got in over my head, but you know how stubborn I am. I wanted to win." She frowned, pouting.

He laughed, "I think you were enjoying yourself, but you're too stubborn to admit it. Either way, you know I have a hero complex. Saving people is kind of my thing." Harry led her around a corner, past the stairs and the library, and after he had passed the last doorway, kept walking.

"Uh, Harry, you know you're walking us straight at a wall right?" She asked, nervously.

"Yep." He answered, still walking. She tried to slow them down, but he sped up. The second they were about to collide she tensed for the impact. "It's not really a wall, Hermione." He said, just as she squeezed her eyes shut.

When she opened her eyes again, the wall was behind her. "Mean!" She accused, blinking rapidly, while her brain struggled to comprehend what her eyes were seeing. "You never did show me these discoveries you made. Or even bother to tell me about them. Well, other than that you found some, somethings."

"Somewheres," he corrected, "I intend to have 'you know who' take down the illusions at some point, I've already had Bill check for any... unpleasant surprises. Surprisingly, there were none. It's like the more recent generations, the nasty ones at least, didn't know or care that these places existed."

"Voldemort?" She questioned teasingly.

He nodded emphatically, "Yes, I'm going to have Voldemort come take down illusions from the great beyond. Then, we will have a tea party... No! —You know who I'm talking about, I don't want him just popping up, it's creepy!"

"I do so love our talks!" She giggled as he led her further into the unknown.

He showed her a bathroom first, one of two like it in the house, with the fancy, pool like tubs and all the scented soapy nozzles. Jokingly, he declared it to be her room, before leading her to the series of what he had guessed to be guest rooms, and letting her pick one.

Seeing as they were all fairly similar, in the way they were dripping with oppressive opulence, Hermione simply picked the one closest to the bathroom. Decision made, she waved her wand and deposited her things into their new accommodations, before repeating the same charms as she had in Regulus' room, to lighten the space up.

However, this time she settled on a Sapphire blue color for the accent, instead of a Gryffindor theme, and instead of a gilded bed and gold hardware, she stuck with black. She wanted her space to be relaxing, and crisp, not in your face.

Harry had gone off to ready his own room, the one directly next to hers, so she took the opportunity to get one final act of vengeance against the man who would not bow to her wishes. He would learn.

"Kreacher." She called. The elf appeared within seconds, as usual. She didn't even let him speak, before she began talking, "Master Regulus misses his dear mother, very much," she said sadly, "is there a way you could move her portrait to his room? He would love it if she could be an entrance to his reading nook, like the portraits into the common rooms in Hogwarts."

The elf was only too happy to agree. "Mistress Black would enjoy that placement! Movesing the charm to another wall woulds be very easy for an elf like Kreacher, it be's canceling the charm that's hard. Permanent things don't likes to stop being permanent, theys be fighting back. Sticks to everything!" Kreacher lamented.

"That is wonderful Kreacher, thank you! He will love it, I'm sure!" Hermione gushed, causing the elf to blush before popping away excitedly.

Mission accomplished! Therefore, it was a positively gleeful Hermione that waltzed into Harry's room moments later. She didn't say a word about her little surprise.

"Need help?" She offered instead, noting that he was struggling to open the heavy drapes to bring some actual light into the room.

"Please?" He returned. She thought back to what she had noticed about her friend over the years, deciding on a plan before getting to work. He liked simple things, for one. He loved being outside. Flying, that too. She was about to give him the first ever room that was truly his, made just for him, so she took her time.

Whiskey colored floors came first, before the cream colored walls. She charmed beams, appearing to be made from living trees, across the ceiling, lacing vines across them to form a sort of canopy throughout the room, while making sure that the ceiling— charmed like hers to show the night sky— was still at least partially visible.

The bed frame, she decided, should be a fourposter like he had in the dormitory, only also made of beams like those on the ceiling, the headboard was interwoven with wrought iron in an intricate leaf and vine like pattern. She then clothed the bed in a soft sage green, with throw pillows the colors of leaves in their full autumn glory.

The shelves in the room she charmed to match the whiskey color of the floor, and the heavy curtains disappeared, being replaced by a lighter, almost fluid fabric in the same green as his comforter, but with a design stitched in the same intricate leaf and vine pattern from the headboard, that was in the corresponding autumn colors from the pillows.

She draped the floor and bed in light colored, fur rugs, also summoned from the storage room, before transfiguring a large walk in fireplace on the wall opposite the bed, which she crafted from large, stacked field-stones, and completed it with a natural wood plank in the same whiskey color as the floor and shelves. Upon the mantle, she placed Harry's broom, the golden snitch- which was carefully frozen in place-, and various pictures he had collected over the years.

Looking around, she felt satisfied with what she saw. Especially when she turned and saw the look on her best friends face. "It's perfect," He whispered, "thank you Hermione."

She nodded, and declared, "It's your first real room Harry, all to yourself. It had to be just perfect for you. It's the least I could do for you after all you've done for me over the years." Before adding, "To give your new start the perfect start. Prank wars excluded."

Harry laughed, "Nah, the prank wars keep things interesting. It really makes it feel like home, you know, after being around the twins so much and all. I've come to expect nothing less from life, and throughly enjoy it." She almost spilled the beans about her most recent stunt, right then and there. But it was almost supper time, so she was sure it would be mentioned. Loudly, at that.

Before heading to the kitchen, Harry showed her the ballroom, with its dining hall, and parlors. She agreed that the dining hall reminded her of Hogwarts, without the floating candles, of course. And, in a display of her magical ability, she sought to remedy that disappointing fact.

Once the ceiling was charmed to mirror the sky outside, she added the candles, having summoned them from somewhere in the house. She charmed them to glow and twinkle as if they were lit when the room got to be a certain degree of darkness. The real fire part had always scared her at Hogwarts, and she had no desire to help herself to an early grave at home.

As they walked to dinner, she charmed all the floors and walls in their hallway, to whiskey and cream, respectively. And banished each and every horrid drapery, leaving only the plain, black silk liners. Which, once free from the heavy swags and layers, looked very nice with the tall ceilings, framing the large windows in a complimentary manner.

It was, therefore, a much lighter feeling Hermione that sat at the dinner table, a smile playing on her lips and a long forgotten lightness in her chest.

She had been stripped of all baggage, much like parts of the house in which she now resided. It was glorious! Almost as good, she thought, as the look on Regulus' face when he finally graced them with his presence.

He sat there in silence, violently stabbing the peas on his plate, like each and every one of them had personally offended him. At least, until Sirius strolled in, a glass of firewhisky in hand, humming the tune to what sounded suspiciously like "ding dong the witch is dead".

"As I was on my way into this lovely little gathering, I hazarded upon a joyous surprise!" He announced, "The entryway is suddenly, finally, amazingly— Sorry— free of that blasted portrait! Her presence no longer haunts my waking nightmares! I don't know where she went, or why, but good riddance to bad portraits, I say!"

Regulus' fork clattered to the plate, and his head dropped into his arms. "She's in my room!" He muttered, horrified. It was muffled, from the current location of his head, but clearly distinguishable. "That elf—" he lamented, as the elf in question popped into the room to catch the tail end of the sentence, "put her there!"

"Master Regulus, I know you's misses your mother so! No needs to cry!" He wrung his hands nervously, "Kreacher can moves the portrait to above your bed? So she's closer to you, if you's like that better?"

Regulus looked stricken. "No!" his sudden exclamation drew a crestfallen look from the previously consoling elf, and he quickly backpedalled, "I, Uh— ahem, I mean— No, Kreacher, she's fine where she's at, thank you." The elf nodded and popped away once more. "Merlin, Help me!"

Everyone in the room dissolved into laughter, except one male, who need not be named, whose head once again came to land heavily in his arms. "Why?!!!" He yelled, to no one in particular.

"In other news." Hermione changed the subject. "Any thoughts on the 6th prophecy and what it might entail? Or, the fact that we were supposed to receive keys to a vault that turned into a castle, yet we never even saw a single key?"

She started when she heard a sudden, if muffled, intake of breath. Regulus raised his head quickly, staring at his left hand.

"I'm not sure about the prophecy, and what it entails," he said slowly, "but I'm sure I didn't have a tattoo at the inside base of my left ring finger this morning. It just happens to appear to be a key."

One by one, they checked their own hands, and sure enough they all had the same mark. If she was a betting woman, Hermione thought, she would bet that the Weasley twins had them also. The question was how to use them, and what exactly they were to be used for.

————


	12. Keep On Keepin’ On

————

**Chapter 12**

— Keep Keepin' On—

————

Once she had a moment to herself, Hermione had ruminated about the events that had transpired. One prophecy semi decoded, six to go.

They'd have to go back to the ministry tomorrow, to see if they couldn't get to the next one before it was fulfilled this time. It would be nice to know what to expect. The question was, since there were six of them involved, who would have to be the one to view the next one?

There were six prophecies left, so maybe each one relates to a specific person. Or maybe they were groups. Or maybe, just maybe it would be easy like this one had been, and it would just be her and Harry.

The easiest way to find out would be to bring everyone along. Like some strange, fated field trip to the ministry.

She had fallen asleep thinking about it all that night. Which, as it turned out, had led to some very strange dreams. Dreams that lead her to the conclusion she needed to stop baiting the younger Black brother, because he was most definitely taking up residence in her subconscious, and she had too many other things to deal with than romance at the moment.

Speaking of the brothers, dark as night as they may be, she really didn't feel like bothering with them first thing in the morning. Instead, she made her way to the dining hall near her room, and surrounded herself with all the books she could find about time and prophecies, Merlin and the founders, as well as anything that might help her get a feel for the situation she had gotten herself into.

Once she was settled, she called for Kreacher to bring a small breakfast spread. Harry would be hungry when he woke up too, and she would convince him to join her.

————

In the flat above their joke shop, Fred and George were debating over their next products release date. They had managed to find a way to send a message in a patronus like form from inside a magic dead zone, as they had taken to calling the type of place Fred had been trapped in.

In essence, it was a two part process. Three, if you counted programming your messages to say something specific. Otherwise, first a button would be pushed to release a burst of magic, prompting the product to be expelled from the dead zone. Secondly, the message would travel, using a stored magic reserve collected while the button was being pressed, to the Aurors at the ministry. Upon arrival it would relay the location of the product upon deployment, while playing the message.

They were calling it the "S.A.S.", a variation of the muggle S.O.S. that Hermione had explained to them. Theirs, however was short for Send Aurors Soon. Minister Shacklebolt had already spoken to the head Auror about an order for the whole department as a failsafe.

It was during this debate that a flailing of limbs in the middle of all the excitement, brought about the discovery of the key shaped marks below their left ring fingers. Being twins, they were used to finding the small differences between them, in order to cover them up when they needed to switch places, thus they noticed something the others had not. The keys on each twin were different.

Storing that tidbit of information away to discuss it with the others, they continued their debate.

Several minutes later they arrived at a compromise, they would debut the item the following month, once they had built up their stock and set aside the order for the Auror department.

Typically, they did a congratulatory high five, and this day was no different, however when their palms touched today they learned something else about the marks unintentionally; When aligned the correct way, with the opposite key, the two bearers of the mark disappeared.

————

It was an entirely new sensation, the twins found, to be surrounded in darkness with no control of your body. In fact, as far as they could tell, they had no bodies at the moment. Although, apparently their ears worked just fine and they could converse at will.

They could tell they were moving, like this was some sort of apparition, only without the squeezing feeling. Also, it was taking an awful long time. The only question was where would they arrive?

"Well," said George hesitantly, "this is certainly new."

He heard Fred laugh in front of him. "It is, indeed, brother of mine."

George sighed, "We could have high five'd first, then had our debate."

"Certainly would have had time." His twin quipped, "Do you think we are almost there yet?"

He hmmed where he would normally have shrugged, compensating for their lack of sight, "Beats me, what if we are in here foreve—" he paused as suddenly they simply reappeared, "Oh — We're here!"

"I see!" Fred stated, looking around himself, "But where is here?"

They had been deposited in some sort of stone keep. Similar to the one they had arrived in yesterday, but different at the same time. Everything around them was caked in dust and spiderwebs at least a foot deep, by the look of it.

Seeing a door, they decided it wouldn't hurt to look around. After all, it was their marks that had brought them there, so they must have been meant to see something and they had to figure out what that something was, somehow.

The room they had entered was similarly neglected, although on the main wall one thing stood out despite being topped with a pile of dust: a very familiar crest. They should know, they'd had it stitched into every uniform for years during their Hogwarts days. "No way." The pair breathed in unison.

Suddenly, they were startled from their awed state by a timid, sleepy sounding voice behind them. "Welcome to the Gryffins Keep. May Tiny be of assistance, Masters?"

They swiveled in tandem, losing their balance and ending up in a pile on the floor. "Get rid of the dust and grime maybe?" Fred suggested, while sputtering and coughing. Trying to expel the grime he had just accidentally inhaled.

They heard rather than saw a snapping of fingers, and suddenly the room was pristine, and a young, female elf in a red frock was visible before them.

The twins made their way from the floor, slowly.

"Tiny was it?" George asked kindly. At her nod he continued. "I am George and this is my brother Fred. Might we, by chance be in Godric's Hollow?"

The aptly named elf yawned once more. "Yes," she smiled, clapping her hands excitedly, "I am so excited you are here! I have been sleeping for a long time, waiting for you!"

"For us?" Fred asked, looking quizzically at the young elf.

She nodded emphatically. "My old master put his family in a magic curse. No witches or wizards for many, many, many years! He said to Tiny, that when the time comes, his family will come back to Tiny and Tiny will show his family their home, and their story."

The small elf fidgeted with her frock before snapping her fingers, opening her palms just in time to catch the crystal ball that appeared. She then gestured to it with her head, appearing to do an awkward half bow because of the weight of the object in her hands. "Touch." She demanded, "then you will understand."

Glancing nervously at each other, as if they instinctively knew everything was about to change, they reached out in tandem and touched the cool surface of the crystal ball.

————

They found themselves whisked into a world unrecognizable from the one they were used to. Scenes of pyres, ablaze in the cobbled streets, the sound of screaming. Whispers of names they had only read about in textbooks, held by people that simply disappeared without a trace. Screams, oh Merlin, the screams were horrific even to the men that had survived a war! And then suddenly it was eerily quiet.

The images shifted to the same cobbled streets, empty. The items left behind, strewn about in the streets, covered in mud and a brownish-black substance they assumed was something less appealing. The houses decayed as they watched, slowly being reclaimed by the earth they were built upon. The one building left unaffected was a grand stone manor, the one they assumed they had just been inside of.

The scene shifted once again, and they found themselves back in the same room they had been in before they touched the crystal ball. But this time they were not alone.

A man stood before the window. His red hair catching the sunlight as it streamed through it. He turned, and they noted that he had the saddest expression on his face, one that screamed of having witnessed numerous, untold horrors.

"Sons of my sons'," he spoke, "I have shown you the state of the world we live in, as I know it. It is not a safe place for people like us in this time. Wizards in general, really, but I am referring to the descendants of more... notorious wizards. The ones with power and deed so great that they are known to man at large, and thus they are feared by wizard and man alike.

By wizard, they are feared because if they willed it, they could rule, however they saw fit to do so. And no one could stop them.

By man they are feared because they are different, and thus misunderstood to be evil. Devils, they call us, and burn us in the streets.

Our families name has become our cross to bear. And none who bear it are safe. Not in our world, and most certainly not in the world of man.

It is for that reason that, with a heavy heart, I and several of my brethren, have decided to bind the magic of our children. So that their children, and their children's children, and so on for 13 generations will be safe.

We have made arrangements, so that the magic is retained and the marriages of these generations will sustain this pact.

At some point, I suspect that the power will become too much and the enchantment will fail, due to marrying into another family that is not a part of this pact, but by then I hope and pray that, Merlin willing, the world will be a safer place.

If you are viewing this, then I suspect that the time is upon us to bring our great family from the depths of time, and rebuild from the ashes.

The mark of Merlin, the keys located on your left ring fingers, will only appear to the foretold heirs. Yes, heirs, as we have been advised by Merlin himself that a pair of twins will be, like the Phoenix, bringing new life to our family after a time of burning.

The building you are standing in is the Gryffyn's Keep, the very center and heart of Godric's Hollow. It is yours by right, fair knights. As you have been proved by the sword, and the stone, brought by the key, and, by placing your hand on this very crystal, have proven your bravery.

As of this moment I declare upon you the family name and Lordships of Gryffindor, with the blessings of Godric and Merlin themselves. May you do them proud.

Your journey, I'm afraid will not be an easy one. For there is still much to do. It has been prophesied that your friends will save the world from descending into ruin once more. That you, in your capacity as knights, will aid in that endeavor.

You have fought bravely once before, against the oppression of our people who were born of man, led by greed and the promise of power by those of our people who cannot understand that magic, simply is magic. Now, you face the battle that has those born of man looking down upon those who were born solely to our world, because neither understands the other.

Heed my words: there must be balance in all things.

For instance, there is no grey magic. There is only white magic, the healing and helpful magic, and black magic, the destructive and merciful magic. Both have their time place, and both can be misused.

One could skin a person with a simple cleaning charm if they so desired, just as easily as one could use a cutting charm to make clothing to cover the naked, or collect food to feed the hungry.

Both man and wizard are born the same, before the magic comes in they are identical. Yet, two sets of people, both sides wizards despite the family they came from, look down upon the other. At the same time they refuse to see that they are two sides of the same coin.

One can be born good, yet choose to be evil as easily as one can be born evil, yet chose to be good.

To save the world as you know it, first you must realize that both sides are wrong. The truth lies somewhere in the middle, and that, dear knights, is what you must find.

As the scene before them faded to black the mans words echoed around them. "Find the truth, change your minds, then lead by example. In doing so you will change the world."

———

As suddenly as the twins had disappeared from the room, they reappeared back in it. The little elf was staring at them, smiling adoringly. "Welcome back! Shall I show you to your rooms? Or do you want to see the grounds? Or—"

A familiar patronus burst into existence, interrupting her excited rambling.

"Fred, George, where are you? We have been trying to floo you for ages! Just meet us at the ministry, would you? Hall of Prophecies." Harry's voice sounded from the mouth of the large, glowing Stag.

Tiny looked saddened for a moment, but cheered up quickly, "Go, then come back to see Tiny. You have much to see, much to do, much to learn. You will stay here tonight, yes? Tiny would be ever so lonely if you refuse."

"Of course Tiny!" George assured the little elf.

"We will even bring company!" Fred added. "Will you make a fine dinner for our guests? You could go to Gringotts, and get some money for our vault for the supplies, since I'm sure there's nothing here. It's been— awhile, by the looks of it."

She was blushing so hard she almost matched her little red frock, and positively vibrating with excitement. "Tiny will cook the best meal for the Masters and their guests. She will get elf wine and mead, and prepare the grand dining hall! But Tiny does not need to go to the wizard bank, the vault is here in the Keep. Do not worry!" She nodded to herself. "And Tiny will get out the furniture... it is looking a little empty."

"That sounds fantastic Tiny, thank you." George praised her.

Fred responded similarly, "Thank you Tiny, we will be back later! There will be at least four guests, but may be a few extra."

The elf satisfactorily appeased, the twins spun on the spot, picturing the ministry apparition point, and when they opened their eyes they had arrived. Ah, Magic was wonderful!

Hurriedly they made their way through the halls of the ministry, and into the Hall of Prophecies. They walked through the door just in time to see Harry and Hermione reach out to touch a prophecy, presumably the sixth of Merlin's. Just as their friends fingers would have made contact with it, there was a crack of what appeared to be lightning from within the orb. Harry and Hermione flew through the air, and only the twins quick _arresto momentum'_s kept them from what would have been a very nasty landing.

"Nice timing!" Harry quipped, "—ow!" Hermione had smacked him on the back of the head.

"What Harry meant to say was 'thank you'!" She snickered. "But you did have impeccable timing too!"

The redheads grinned, one saying "Always!" And the other, "It's just been that kind of day!"

Hermione smiled, "It's about to get better."

"I'm intrigued, do continue." Fred smirked, "but I warn you, you may find that hard to achieve."

"Ha ha. Well while you two were Merlin only knows where, doing I don't want to know what... we tried every combination of people between the four of us that were here, and that happened every time." She started, pausing for effect before continuing, "So, either the sixth prophecy takes more than two of us, or it takes you two."

"Oh goody!" George deadpanned, "I've always fancied getting struck by lightning."

"Have you tried going one by one?" Fred asked, hoping to delay the possibility of that experience.

"We were going to... but then you showed up. That's what I had been thinking last night. There is one orb for each of us, if it is only one person per prophecy." The curly haired girl sighed. She was not looking forward to being shocked again. Resigned, she walked up to the crystal ball and stuck her fingers out, saying "I guess I'll get it over with."

As she got nearer, the ball began to shimmer, then glowed softly. She was millimeters away from touching it, when the image inside appeared, like a swirling fog inside a snow globe. But when she touched the cool surface of the orb, nothing happened. Removing her hand, the fog dissipated. "That's weird." She stated, puzzled.

The Unspeakable that had been guarding over the room agreed, saying that was an occurrence that had never been recorded in a prophecy. He prompted the rest of the group to try, stating that if the same thing didn't occur again with anyone else in the group, the prophecy was hers to claim, but at a different point in time.

Amusingly enough, to Hermione at least, every other person that tried was zapped as she watched. Unfortunately that also meant she was the subject of the first prophecy, but had to wait for an unknown time, or set of circumstances to occur, before she could view it. Which reminded her. "Fred, George, we noticed something strange last night. We each have marks on our hands, that are —"

"Keys." Fred finished her sentence, "Yes, we know. We saw them. And accidentally used them. They're different you know, the keys."

The girl looked at him quizzically, but before she could ask the millions of questions sure to be forming in her head, his twin spoke. "Yes, different, as in not the same." George laughed, "We think they're all variations of two halves to one whole or something like. When we high fived earlier we went on some kind of strange apparition journey."

"Ended up somewhere pretty spectacular." Fred threw in.

"And we would like to take you there, for dinner." George finished his train of thought, glancing at Hermione.

The woman before him suddenly appeared to be flabbergasted, "You want to take me for dinner? I mean... the two of you? Both... I... well, I'm flattered but... you're not really my... I'm not really up for a new...uh... hmm" she stuttered.

"Oh Merlin that was painful to watch," Fred joked.

"Hermione, Love, either of us would be lucky to have you, but uh we weren't asking you out." George clarified. She looked supremely embarrassed, and relieved at the same time, but stayed resolutely quiet so as to not give herself the opportunity to do more damage.

"We were inviting you lot for dinner." Fred supplied. "There is much to discuss, and all that."

"Where would we be going?" Regulus asked, speaking for the first time since the twins had arrived.

It was then they realized just how terrible he looked. It was almost as if he hadn't slept at all! In any case, his current state was not a good look on the Slytherin man.

"Godric's hollow." They answered in sync.

"But, maybe you should take a nap first or something." Fred joked, drawing a glare from the younger Black brother, and causing a look of mirth to appear on the older siblings face.

"Yes, Regulus, we should go home. I bet mother would love to hear about your day so far." Sirius spoke, eyes twinkling mischievously, "You could describe it all to her as you're going to sleep. Then, her scathing remarks could lull you to total contentment."

His brother pursed his lips, "Contempt, more like! If you don't mind, Sirius, I think I'd rather set myself on fire. That witch was grating, at the best of times." He breathed out a whoosh of air, "Would you believe she told me stories of the Dark Lord last night. After stating that I needed a story for bed. And she did so, in graphic detail. I swear! She whispered her tales even while I slept!" Looking hopeful, Regulus turned to the twin brothers, "No time like the present lads! Tell me, there aren't any portraits of harpy like bigots where we are going are there?"

The whole group laughed in unison, wondering how the woman he was describing could have given life to not only one, but two sons like the men standing before them. Both, it seemed had learned by example of what not to do, rather than emulating their parents. Well, their mother really, their father was more of an unknown entity.

Although it had taken longer for Regulus to see the truth of the world, and the error of his ways, he inevitably had, and still did. That fact, in and of itself was very comforting to the group. Proof that there was hope, even in the bleakest of situations, for change.

"Truth be told, we don't know" Fred admitted cryptically when the laughter died down, then George finished his statement, "But we are hopeful!"

"One Walburga is plenty for the world." Sirius said plainly, "Unfortunately, she got the habits from somewhere. So I'm sure there are plenty of portraits just like hers, waiting to spread their seeds of superiority and malice to the world at large." Regulus nodded in agreement with his brother.

As the twins privately discussed how best to get the group to their destination, while avoiding potential mishaps such as splinching, or alerting muggles to their seemingly unnatural forms of transportation, Kingsley walked through the door.

"No luck?" He asked Hermione, looking crestfallen.

The witch shook her head, "Not much." She shrugged, "We've deduced that it's my prophecy, as it let off a hazy glow when I held it alone. But, it's like it's waiting for something to let me in."

The minister sighed, "Well, it's more than we had to go on before, I suppose." Taking in the appearance of the group, he asked, "Well, any other updates to be had? Plans that could further the investigatory process?" He laughed at his own line of inquiry, "I'm not really trying to pry, just— I'm hiding from my secretary, and I'm losing my mind wondering where all this mess is leading us!"

George took that moment, after a questioning look to his brother was met with a nod, to invite the minister along for their adventures of the day. Less updating to be had later.

Speaking of updating, they had neglected to fill him in on all the specifics of their visit to Gringotts. Hermione decided they could get it all over with at once, on whatever journey they were about to embark upon, over dinner apparently.

They set out to the apparition point, the twins intending have the group to pop over to Godric's Hollow proper, and figure out how to get the the Keep from there. If that failed they had two options: side along everyone individually inside, or call Tiny for assistance.

At the last moment they were intercepted by Percy, who's swotty ways could be useful in such a situation, and George pulled him aside to offer an invitation for him to join the group. Surprisingly, he accepted with only minimal arm twisting and the promise of knowledge he did not currently possess.

Ron, similarly caught up to them, and invited himself along. The twins tried to dissuade him, but Harry felt bad for unintentionally leaving him out lately and they relented, begrudgingly. Then Neville, who had been walking with the youngest male Weasley, had been invited to attempt to keep the peace once Ron started to feel slighted by his lack of inclusion in the prophecies.

Arriving at the apparition point with no more hangers on, Kingsley took charge and directed them to the least used apparition point in Godric's Hollow. One by one they spun and popped out of existence, reappearing moments later in the small, ancient town.

————


	13. Into the Lions Den

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Chapter 13

—Into the Lions Den—

————

It was a lovely day in Godric's Hollow. The birds were chirping, the sun was out, all in all it was just plain peaceful. Well, at least it was until the group of 10 popped in.

The twins had begun looking around immediately. Trying to find the structure that was the Gryffin's Keep. It couldn't be that hard, right? Centuries old, bound to be imposing, not something one could imagine missing. Unfortunately they didn't see anything like that, although they knew it was there. Somewhere.

It was Ron's voice that brought them out of their search. "So, uh, what exactly are we looking for? Or who, I guess, since I didn't ask what we were doing before throwing in with you lot."

"A castle," Fred said distractedly, still glancing every which way.

Ron snorted, "You lost a whole castle?! Are you blind? Ever been there before? I mean, so we can know what we are looking for... never seen a castle around these parts before though."

George really wasn't in the mood for his little brothers... moodiness, so he simply said "yes" and left him to stew over which question he was answering. Fred, on the other hand, preferred to just ignore him altogether for the moment.

"A castle?" Kingsley whistled. "Well, if I were a hidden castle —because it would have to be hidden in this place, since there hasn't been one here since Godric Gryffindor founded the village— I would be looking for a large area with nothing in it."

"Like there?" Regulus stated dryly, pointing to the cobblestoned area they were stood in front of. It was literally the middle of the town, so upon consideration it was very strange that nothing was there. Yet, people simply walked right by it. As if it were under a notice me not charm or something.

The twins simply groaned, and took off across the street. "Why didn't we think of that?!". The group watching in surprise as they were there one second, then the next they were just— gone.

They reappeared just as quickly. "Found it!", Declared Fred, grinning.

"Grab hands everyone." George commanded, taking the front of the quickly formed chain, leaving Fred to shore up the end. "Good, good, here we go!"

Seconds later there was a collective intake of breath when, where there had just been nothing but stones in the street, now there was an imposing fortress.

Griffin's, they noted, adorned the spires, of which there were dozens, all nestled under the cherry red tile roof. The windows were lined with decorative, lead lined scenes, depicting all manner of ancient lore, both human and beast, all of which were stained impressively.

"What— where—how— is this?" The minister was so shocked at the sight before him, he couldn't even form a complete sentence.

George took pity on him and answered his unfinished question. The man obviously knew where he was, although he had no idea how it was possible to be in a place that was rumored to have been destroyed centuries before, thus the difficulty. "Yes, sir, it is."

Just then the doors of the castle opened, Tiny poked her little head out and spoke, letting everyone else in on the secret. "Welcome to the Griffin's Keep! Please do come in!"

Everyone filed in, still in shocked silence.

The twins were the last to enter, just after Regulus. As the former Slytherin set foot over the threshold, they leaned forward and whispered, "Welcome to the lions den." Which the other boy found amusing, judging by his muffled snort.

The elf led them through spacious hallways, filled with what appeared to be priceless artifacts. Gilded gold chairs with burgundy velvet, shiny, ornately carved mahogany tables, all featuring depictions of griffins and lions, with the odd knight or sword motif now and again. The halls were padded with a literal red carpet, in the form of massive runners. Gold sconces lit the space from their places on the walls, when the hallways became more interior as they had no natural light from windows.

Finally, they reached what appeared to be a gathering space. After a moment the twins noticed that it was the same room they had been deposited into earlier. The tiny elf bowed and announced "Dinner will be served shortly!" then promptly disappeared. As everyone decided where to sit amongst the numerous gold and red chairs, and sofas, more plush than those that lined the hallways, the silence was almost complete. When beverages and appetizers appeared on a long table to the side of the room, however, it seemed the spell was broken.

"Food!" Ron yelled, hurrying over. "I'm starved, and thirsty too come to think of it." He stated to everyone and no one at the same time. A collective series of chuckles made their way around the room.

Percy was the next to speak, "Not to look a gift horse in the mouth," he began, "because I also, am a bit parched, but where exactly are we... and why?"

The twins looked at each other and stood. Fred moved over to the table with the food and drinks, and George moved to the center of the seating area. Since George was the closest to the group at large, and therefore the closest to Percy, who had posed the question, he spoke first. "This, from what we have been told, is the Griffins Keep, ancestral seat of the Gryffindor family."

"You are here today," Fred continued, "because we find ourselves needing some answers, that may well be discovered within these very walls."

George took over, looking at Hermione this time, "Fred and I had an incident with some keys this morning, and wound up here. We were given a missive, in the form of a crystal ball, upon arrival, from a distant family member that promised answers."

"Yet only offered more questions." Fred added, shaking his head.

Percy narrowed his eyes, "Our family lived here?"

George nodded affirmatively, "The Prewitt bunch. And before them, the Gryffindor's."

"One of Godric Gryffindors descendant's changed his name," Hermione jumped in, seeing Percy's disbelief, "during the burning period. In an attempt to be less recognizable by name, and secure safety for his family. He chose the name Prewitt, because, as he said 'bravery always comes before wit'. But it was not as successful as he would have liked."

"How so?" Asked Kingsley, enraptured by the tale he was beginning to hear.

"That might be easier to show you..." Fred answered, "Tiny!"

The little elf appeared, looking flustered, "Yes Master, dinner is almost done."

"Thank you Tiny, but I was wondering if there was a pensieve around here? Or a way for everyone to see the contents of the crystal ball?" Fred looked sheepish, "Sorry! We can wait, if you need to get back to dinner?"

"The other elves will handle it, they are just a little sleepy still." She replied, shaking her head vigorously. Snapping her fingers, the ball appeared once more, this time on some sort of a tripod. Pointing the device towards a blank stretch of wall over the table filled with food and drinks, she tapped it three times with her finger, and the scenes within the ball began to play out, once again.

"Thank you Tiny!" Fred addressed the elf quietly, placing a hand on her shoulder briefly. "That's exactly what we needed."

Everyone was staring in awe, and horror. Until the part about being knights and lords and twins, when it all started to come together. Then, Ron was angry beyond words, and Percy was gobsmacked. Thankfully they saved their comments until the end.

As soon as the images faded to black the chaos began. "You're the Lords of Gryffindor?!" Ron yelled, at the same time as Percy was loudly stating that they needed to contact their parents and let them know of this development, and the bank.

The twins just nodded dumbly, while Neville, true to form, pulled Ron over to the side to try to talk him down from his tantrum. Hermione swept them up in a hug, knowing just how much this development would help them in life, and telling them how much they deserved it, then letting them go and digressing into a monologue about all the information that was surely in these 'hallowed halls' as she called them.

Kingsley was thinking much the same as Hermione, and pulled her aside to discuss this in detail. At which point she also remembered he hadn't been told about the meeting at Gringotts, so she backtracked and filled him in. It was, therefore, an ecstatic minister that approached the new lords a few moments later, and offered to do anything he could to help the entire group in their quest. Thinking that he, in his capacity as minister, may have an exciting credit to his term yet.

Percy, upon talking to Sirius and his brother, had decided to get information first before talking to their parents. It was, after all not his news to break, and there was much to be learned before anything could be said with much accuracy. Therefore, the trio grabbed Fred and were about to take off on an exploratory mission when the elf popped in once more, declaring dinner to be served, and waving a gigantic double doors open.

Begrudgingly, they filed into the dining hall to see very fancy spread laid out, complete with elf wine and mead. At which point the spirits of the group lifted and they began talking animatedly once more.

————

Hermione had been very carefully evading Regulus all day, but he had finally pinned her down at the dinner table, taking the seat to her left, while George took the seat to her right.

He gave her a small smile and in greeting, "Fancy running into you here, Mistress Granger."

She bowed her head, "Regulus."

"Mister Black has been telling us about a problem he happened to be having at home," George said from her other side, "he seems to think that his elf acted under duress."

She looked offended, and gasped, "I did no such thing!"

George laughed, "You didn't force the elf to move the portrait of his favorite mistress into his favorite masters room?"

She shook her head. "I did not."

Regulus was smiling at her still, one that was slowly morphing from friendly to predatory, "What did you do then?"

Hermione blushed, then paled, "I..."

"If you don't tell me, I'm going to bunk with you," The youngest Black sibling whispered.

"He's good," George observed, "you should probably tell him—unless that was your plan all along. Do you want to share quarters with Mister Black, here?"

"Yes!—no, I mean no. Yes, I should tell him?" Hermione was flustered, "I didn't force Kreacher to do anything, I simply stated to him in passing you probably missed your mother, that's all." She admitted, fudging the truth just a little.

"Yes you want to share?" George chuckled. "Granger Danger!" He and Regulus looked at each other before laughing heartily.

"She's being rather mean, don't you think?" Regulus pouted.

The red headed boy nodded, agreeing "Might have to take her over your knee, Reg. Wait, she may like that. Just tell her the beginning of every piece of lost information you know, then leave her hanging, that might teach her."

They were ganging up on her! She couldn't believe it. But she tried to play it cool. Instead of getting frustrated or acting like a love-starved school girl she just said, "Ugh, I love you both, it's ok. Nobody has to hide information from me or any such nonsense."

"She loves us!" George cheered, loudly, drawing the attention of the whole table, "maybe we should all bunk together." He suggested, wiggling his eyebrows, as his hand found her thigh, and she felt Regulus do the same on the other side.

Unfortunately, Hermione had just been about to swallow the last of her glass of elf wine, and its contents sprayed from her mouth at that exact moment. Regulus took the opportunity to dab the liquid from her face gently, using his napkin. "You look a little flushed, Hermione," he stated quietly.

"Gee I have no idea why! Two attractive boys were trying to make me that way, and thus—" she gestured to her face.

He grinned, preening, "You think I'm attractive?"

"I was talking about George." She deadpanned, trying to backpedal. "He kissed me the other day, you know?

Undeterred, Regulus cocked an eyebrow, "Oh?" To which George nodded. "Then it appears I have some catching up to do." The dark headed man whispered, tilting her head with the hand holding the napkin, his face suddenly impossibly close to her own. Gently, he slanted his lips over hers.

Fireworks blossomed behind Hermione's eyes as she tried to comprehend just what was happening. The boys were teasing her, she spit wine everywhere, she tried to get out of trouble, she used George as a scapegoat to link them romantically. Regulus... oh. Oh! Regulus was... kissing her! It felt nice, she admitted, returning the kiss gently. But she should probably stop him.

He was just trying to get even with her for moving his mothers portrait, after all. Right?

"Regulus," she gasped, drawing away from him.

His grey blue eyes fluttered open, and he looked at her questioningly.

She noticed George's hand had moved from her thigh, and he was involved in an animated conversation with Sirius, on his other side. No one, it seemed, was paying their interaction any mind. "It's not fair to play with my emotions. Even if I did have Kreacher move your mother. I'm sorry about that, but... this is..." she trailed off, not knowing what else to say.

"Nice?" He finished, hopefully. "Yes, my mother is a harpy, and she's taking up residence in my room and I'm not happy about that. However, I can appreciate the prank for what it is, and it was a brilliant prank to be honest."

She sighed, "Yes, it was a nice kiss, Regulus. Probably the best I've ever had. But, I just— you don't— I can't. Ugh. You win, point for Regulus Black, he who won the flirt war and sexually frustrated the Muggleborn bookworm." Hermione stood up suddenly, and walked out of the room. He tried to follow, but she was already gone when he reached the doorway.

Regulus moved to follow her when he was interrupted by a hand on his shoulder. Harry.

"What happened?" The green eyed boy asked, eyes crinkled in concern.

Covering his face with his hands briefly, Regulus answered. "I kissed her." He blew out a breath. "I didn't mean to... well, I didn't plan to! George and I were trying to get a straight answer from her about the portrait and, then I realized how bloody brilliant she is and I went off script. I couldn't help it, she just, —captivates me.

And then she accused me of playing with her feelings because she's a 'Muggleborn bookworm' and she ran off! She's lying to herself, and— " he gasped, "thats it!"

Harry suddenly found himself very confused. He looked at the other man questioningly, "You know why she ran off?"

"No, well yes, I was an idiot, that's why she ran off... but I'm talking about the prophecy now." Regulus answered the man he, admittedly, didn't know well, but who he had come to consider a good friend. He continued, absently, still thinking "The prophecy needs her to accept herself, before she can hear it. She's been presented with information that changes how she's seen herself for years, I.e. the 'Muggleborn bookworm'...And she's burying her head in the sand...

I think, when she accepts herself for who she is, the orb will admit her. But for now she's so caught up in that people have seen her as less than them for so many years, she can't see that some people have changed, and that she wasn't what she thought she was to begin with.

It's her moment of reconciliation... with the world at large. Black and white is not black and white anymore, there are no lines to read between. Yes, she's headstrong and smart but right now she is free-falling."

"And she's alone." Harry gasped, "we have to find her." He yelled out to the group to get up and spread out, directed them to comb the castle, and informed them that Hermione was somewhere within its walls, possibly upset but probably unhurt.

The twins passed out S.A.S's to the group, just in case. It wouldn't hurt to have some real testing, and who knew what was lurking in an ancient estate like the one they were currently inside of.

————

Little did the group of males know that Hermione had only summoned Tiny, and requested to be shown to a bathroom. So she could calm down and freshen up. When she returned to find the dining hall empty, she was informed that they were looking for her, by the cheerful elf who had known her whereabouts the entire time.

After inquiring as to if they could run into anything potentially dangerous on their search, and being met with a resounding 'no', Hermione sat down with the elf, and began questioning her as to the history of the estate, the family, and any information related to their quest that she may have known.

Several hours, and a dozen or so rolls of parchment later, Hermione had finished a bottle of elf wine, and, when the elf took her leave, had taken the liberty of curling up on a sofa, where she promptly fell asleep.

————

Meanwhile, on the other side of the castle.

"It's been HOURS!" Ron complained to his best friend, "Why hasn't she answered your patronus yet?!"

Harry froze, feeling suddenly very stupid. "My patronus! I'm so stupid! I didn't send her one, did you?"

Ron looked at his oldest friend like he had antlers. "No, I thought you did! Isn't that the first thing you usually do?"

"Hermione usually does," Harry admitted sheepishly, casting the spell.

He requested for it to find Hermione, and they followed the stag in silent disbelief, all the way back to the room the gathering space, where they found her sound asleep.

"Oh, yes, she's missing, alright!" Ron scoffed, as Harry sent a patronus to the group letting them know that Hermione was found. The redhead went back to the table and began to eat the rest of his dinner, "No use wasting good food." He smirked, toasting Harry, who just shook his head and laughed.

A patronus Harry didn't recognize bounded into the room, in the shape of a Jaguar, "Thanks Harry, we will be a bit," Regulus' voice poured out of the Jaguar's mouth, "Kingsley and I found something, we've called the twins to check it out, Percy and Neville just got here. Seems like you're on your own for a bit, unless you fancy joining us."

Noting Ron was busy with his dinner, Harry left him with the direction of making sure Hermione wasn't alone when she woke up. Pulling out his wand, and using a standard point me, me he made his way to see what all the fuss was about.

————


	14. If You Can’t Beat Em’, Join Em’

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**Chapter 14**

-

_—If You Can't Beat Em', Join Em'—_

————

—_Sometime in the 1930's—_

Scamandrius Granger-Dagworth was sitting at home, studying laws and citations for a case he had been working on, when suddenly he dropped his quill, and knocked over his ink well. Had he not bent down to try and right the mess he had just made, he would have seen the flash of light that heralded the arrival of a cylindrical object upon his desk.

As it was, he remained oblivious to its presence until he lifted his head once more, and moved to put the displaced objects back in their proper places. I'm doing so, he inadvertently knocked over the object.

Instantaneously, he had the notion that life was just too complicated in general. Why did he have two last names? He wondered. Wouldn't it have been more simple to simply have one? He decided that from now on he would simply be a Granger.

As Scamandrius had always favored the simple things in life, it was not exactly a thought he would think twice about having. However, he probably should have, seeing as he had never thought of it before.

When I have a son, he thought, he will not have to deal with any of this quill and ink pot nonsense. I bet the muggles have a better way of writing, maybe it would be more simple for his son to just live like the muggles.

Unthinkingly, he opened the cylinder, and peered inside. Seeing they contained some type of what appeared to be thin wafers, he took one out and bit into it experimentally.

At that precise moment, the door to his office opened, and in walked his longtime friend, Albus Dumbledore. "Scamandrius," the man greeted him, fidgeting with his plain black robes, and eying the tin in Scamandrius' hands, "Oh! What do you have there! You know I love sweets!" He said, reaching out and snagging one before Scamandrius could stop him.

"Help yourself Albus," he mumbled belatedly.

Around his mouthful of wafer, Albus responded, "No, thank you. One is quite plenty, they don't seem to be as sweet as I imagined them to be."

Scamandrius couldn't help but to chuckle. He had been trying to warn the man, after all. Albus was so predictable. He wished that his friend would do something different for a change. Maybe wear a bit of color, or crazy socks, maybe even grow out his beard a bit. Something to make his life a little more interesting.

Although looking at his friend, Scamandrius could tell something was different than it had been when he walked into the room. There was a distinct twinkle in his eye, like he was full of great ideas all of the sudden that he had to bring to fruition, like some massive game of chess was building itself to a crescendo behind his pupils.

"If you'd excuse me," Albus said, "I don't seem to remember why I stopped by, but I have the sudden urge to buy some socks... maybe a new set of robes too, we'll see. Oh, I know, I came to see how you were doing on the case. Making the founders private lives, well, more private is a fantastic undertaking. I wish we didn't have to hide why they disappeared. Making it seem like they went without a trace, leaving no records or descendants just seems so _anticlimactic_. If only they could have had another way. A failsafe, or what have you.

Scamandrius nodded, agreeing wholeheartedly.

Unnoticed by both men, the tin of wafers had vanished in another flash of light.

Mumbling their goodbyes, the friends parted ways once more. Scamandrius back to his work, and Albus to his spur of the moment shopping trip.

————

Back at Griffin's Keep, Hermione was vaguely aware of the sound of scraping assaulting her senses. She had fallen asleep after the boys had formed a search party, looking for her, when her elfin companion had gone back to work after imparting a variety of invaluable stories.

After a few moments, the annoyingly repetitious noise became more then she could bear, so the curly haired witch sat up to see what could be done to stop it. Opening her eyes, just enough to get a sense of her surroundings, Hermione noticed she was still alone in the gathering room. But the noise continued.

As her senses returned, she noted that as annoying as it was, the source of the noise was not as close as she initially thought. Gingerly stretching muscles sore from sleeping on the couch, Hermione stood and followed the sound. It led her to the dining room, where one Ronald Bilius Weasley was sitting alone, in silence, slowly eating his supper.

"Ronald," she greeted her ex boyfriend sleepily. "Where is everyone else?"

He looked up, surprised at the interruption. "Well hello there sleeping beauty." He chuckled, "Have a nice nap? You had everyone worried there for a while!"

She grimaced, bowing her head so that her now flaming cheeks were hidden from sight. "Sorry. I hope they weren't too worried. I just went to the loo to freshen up, and when I got back... no one was here. I talked to the elf a little bit, got a couple stories, then decided to take a time to rest, since everyone was gone."

"Ha, you've changed you know?" He stated, smiling softly at his best female friend, "Don't give me that incredulous look, Hermione. I don't know what it is, exactly, but ever since you made that product with George you've been... happier? I guess. More expressive, laid back too."

"Tell that to Regulus!" She muttered. And then, suddenly, it was like the dam broke, and everything just came pouring out. "He kissed me, Ron. He and George were teasing me, and then he went and did that... and I just lost it. Suddenly my self confidence flew out the window, like a snitch and me the one who doesn't fly, left unable to catch it again. I may have been a little hard on him. On myself too..." she admitted, trailing off.

Ron was waiting, patiently, for her to continue. He knew she wasn't done, and had to get it all out. So, he reached for a dessert at random, and began to eat once more.

"I just... I hate when he teases me. He knows how bloody attractive he is, and just like Sirius, he knows how to use it. But he can't know how it affects me. That man is smart, well read, he knows all this magic I couldn't even think to even dream of, and I'm just me... little bookworm Granger." She sighed, sitting in a chair, "I know he says he's changed..."

"Maybe He has," Ron threw in there, hesitantly, "Harry certainly thinks so. I mean, if I didn't know he was in love with Ginny, I'd think he had a hard on for the snake! And Harry usually has pretty good instincts about these kinds of things."

"Ok, so say he has changed." Hermione said, resting her head on her hands. "He's a blood purist, or he was rather. If someone like him can change and suddenly think someone like me is worth even a grain of salt, then where does that leave me? I mean I grew up a Muggleborn, only to find out that I'm probably not," Ron looked confused, but stayed silent. "If their side is not who I thought they were, and I'm not who I thought I was, then I've suddenly lost both my identity, and my sense of direction in the world! It's like... everything is suddenly backwards, but I can only walk forwards, so I'm out of sync with the rest of life."

Her ex boyfriend was not who she pictured having this conversation with, actually she hadn't planned on having it at all... with anyone. But here they were. He had a way of making her rant, usually at him, but apparently they'd progressed to actual deep conversations in which he was the one that listened. See, even he had changed!

Emotional range of a teaspoon no more, the red headed man opened his mouth. "Hermione, I don't know anything about half of what you were just talking about," he admitted, "but what I do know is that everyone changes. Sometimes you just don't see it, because it happens so slowly, or because they simply don't want you to know it's happened until they are ready to let you know.

Regulus, not that I like the bloke, or even know much about him, but he grew up in a difficult situation. Unlike Sirius, he didn't have a James Potter to save him.

He had Lucius Malfoy, and Professor Snape of all people! But he grew up with Sirius' influence as a major factor in his life, so chances are that he may have held the same beliefs as his brother, just was unable to show them.

And so what if you do turn out to be not a Muggleborn. Granted I never experienced growing up as one, I was the youngest child from a poor family with little social standing, so I was looked down on a lot too. It doesn't matter how you're born, or to who you're born, really. You're still the same person deep down, right?

If you were pure blooded you'd still believe in house elf rights, because forced servitude is something you see as wrong. Even if you were a halfblood, you wouldn't think that Muggleborns were suddenly less than you. You know good and well that they have no less power than any other witch or wizard, and their blood isn't dirty or magic stolen.

You wouldn't suddenly be a bigot or friends with the death eater wanna be's because they were "like you" all the sudden. Because you disagree with who they are in general, and how they look down on people.

It doesn't change a thing, other than a record somewhere in an old dusty office."

Somewhere during his speech, Hermione realized he was right. She was overthinking, over reacting, overly in denial. Silvertongue had laid information at her feet and she had simply said "it's got to be wrong because I don't feel any different."

When, in reality, she really should have accepted the truths presented with proof, and realized that, while unexpected, this news changed nothing about her personally. Except maybe everything that didn't actually matter.

She reached out and grabbed Ron suddenly, making him poke himself in the face with a fork full of pie, and smearing whipped cream across his cheek. Hugging him tightly, she spoke from the heart, "I'm so lucky to have you as a friend, Ron. You've really changed too, by the way. This whole listening and prompting thought thing was new, and much appreciated."

"Anytime Herms!" He smiled broadly, as she recoiled from the nickname, "Anytime."

She shook her head, glad that at least some things would never change, before realizing he hadn't answered her other question. "So, where exactly is everyone?" She asked again.

"Oh," he waved her off, "Regulus and Kingsley found something, I guess. Harry went to go check it out, but Neville and Percy were already with them. I guess the twins and Sirius were also on their way."

"What did they find?" She asked, suddenly wishing she hadn't been wasting time being an overly emotional girl.

Ron shrugged, standing up, "I have no idea." He smiled, "but I bet we could find out! What do you say, up for another adventure milady?" He held out a hand for hers, then pulled her up to standing.

Leading the way, he cast the charm that would, with any luck, lead straight to their group. "And Hermione," He said, looking over his shoulder, "you can come to me for anything, you know? I care about you. I want you to be happy. No matter if it's with the snake boy."

She laughed and smacked him on the shoulder, "Hush, now! We have a discovery aching to be found!"

————

Harry had caught up with the group fairly quickly, after winding through the maze like corridors of the Griffins Keep. Unfortunately the point me spell had not recognized that they were indeed directly above him, so he walked around the building several times needlessly, before discovering the stairs, and thus finding his friends.

They were immersed in an old library. Every one of them looking like Hermione, studying for a test, surrounded by piles of ancient texts and staring at one in amazement. Percy was conversing softly with Regulus, both wide eyed and excited.

It was Neville, arms laden with what appeared to be old weaponry, who noticed him first. "Harry! How's Hermione?"

Harry ran his hands through his hair, mussing it further and chuckled, "Sleeping. Turns out she never went anywhere." Neville joined him in his laughter as Harry asked what exactly he was holding.

His friends eyes lit up, "Obviously weapons," he started. Neville had become a bit of a collector in the years since the war.

He had used Gryffindor's sword to slay the horcrux that was Nagini, after all, and it seemed to have an unexpected effect on the formerly shy Gryffindor.

He now lived for all things defensive; swords, knives, shields, even bows and arrows. He'd even learned how to properly used them, and become a bit of an expert in the field, thus his position in the Auror Department.

Along with his extensive knowledge of all things Herbology related, this made the man an invaluable resource. "They're unlike anything I've ever seen, Harry! There's enchantments all over them, and the guys have found records of every one, they're legendary." Neville exclaimed.

Myths and legends and prophecies, oh my, Harry thought. "That's amazing, Neville. I'm glad you were able to be part of all this excitement." He patted his friend on the back, and made his way to where Sirius and the twins were huddled over something in the corner of the room.

"Boo!" He yelled, clapping his hands on his godfather's back, and causing the man to jump.

The older man stared at his godson, making him worry for a moment that he was mad. Just as Harry was about to open his mouth to apologize profusely, he was wrapped in a hug, followed by a violent mussing of his hair. "Hey pup. Come to look at some dusty old books?"

Harry, desperately trying to right his hair, huffs. "No, I came to scare the life out of an old man."

Looking around, Sirius zero's in on a target, "Oy, Shacklebolt," he calls, "Harry says he's here to scare you to death."

"I'm ready, let him do his worst." The Minister shoots back, clearly enjoying the informal setting.

Harry just shakes his head, "Cute, Sirius."

"I know, I'm positively adorable, but you're not my type pup." His godfather jokes, "Seriously though, I'm actually doing something, so either go harass the Minister, or make yourself useful!" He says, gesturing to the stack of what appeared to be ledgers in front of them.

The twins look up, wide eyed and exclaim, "Run while you can!" Before George elaborates, "The sheer amount of numbers in these pages are eating my brain alive." And Fred adds, "There's so much aristocratic melodramatic bull— yeah, there's so much lunacy in here... thankfully Sirius speaks the language of the natives, and is able to translate."

Clearly uninterested, Harry thanks them for the warning, and heeds their advice, walking instead over to Percy and Regulus. Hopefully they found something a little more... useful and-or interesting. "Please, tell me you have something fun to look at? Something not aristocratic red tape or rusty weaponry, preferably." He says in lieu of a greeting.

Percy scoffed, while Regulus laughed, "Sit, Harry. We found the blueprints to the Keep, we think. And Kingsley fancies that he's found the books about wizarding history who's only copies were thought to be lost to time, or destroyed by the ministry decades ago." The Minister waved distractedly from a table in the corner, clearly hearing his name.

"Blueprints. What do we know so far?" Harry inquired.

Percy took charge, per usual, "Well, there appears to be four levels, and a cellar or dungeon. Whatever you want to call the down below bits. The first level we saw before, is mainly for entertaining and general day to day activity. Kitchens, parlors, dining hall, gathering room. The second is for more official use, such as keeping of records and the like. The armory is also on the second level. Third level appears to be training areas? We think. And guest spaces, for visiting soldiers or knights, I suppose. The final floor looks to be living quarters, presumably in case they ever needed to defend the Keep, they would do so from the roof, which all of the rooms open on to. The dungeon is unmarked, but probably was used for storing prisoners and goods. Like a root cellar where you could shove your enemies, should the need arise, one turret is also a owlery, and a second is unlabeled but it seems to be positioned to be like an observatory, probably for keeping an eye on advancing armies, but maybe for stargazing as well." His attempt at humor fell flat, but he continued as if he didn't notice. "The whole thing is built like a bit of a maze. Presumably to slow down intruders should they ever make it through defenses. There's also some sort of bathing house that's technically both outside and in the cellar at the same time? And massive gardens, with a separate house that may actually be a greenhouse, come to think of it."

Harry whistled, "WOW, this is some place huh? Lucky the twins found it."

Percy nodded, still gazing intently at the paper in front of him.

"You know," Regulus said to the oldest Weasley in the room, "just because your younger brothers were named heirs and you weren't, doesn't mean they won't share all of this with you. You will have the ability to see all of this, probably as many times as you would like."

The redhead sighed and looked dejected. "Truthfully, I wouldn't deserve their kindness in that case. I've been nothing but a selfish... jerk, a pompous, selfish jerk, to them for as long as I can remember. I put their dreams down, I refused my own family."

"Pot, meet the Kettle named Black," Regulus said, gesturing to where his older brother was conversing with the other mans younger brothers. "Sirius and I had our ups and downs, he denied our family as well, and I joined forces with an evil megalomaniac. Yet, here we are."

Harry saw fit to add to this conversation, it seems they were both forgetting an important piece of information. "Percy," He said, laughing at the older boys face, "the twins wanted you to be here today. They said if anyone they knew would be able to make sense of any of this, it would be you. Would they seek you out and force you to see all this if they didn't want anything to do with you?"

He had the decency to look sheepish. "I suppose not." Then the look changed to one of determination. "I think I may have taken a wrong turn at some point, in life. I got so wrapped up in power and accomplishment, tried to be the same as the people I surrounded myself with. I lost what was really important. I'm glad I was here today, to have this, apparently much needed, reality check." He smiled, "If the Slytherin former death eater can make up with his Gryffindor order member brother, then I suppose I may have a shot at it with mine."

Regulus chuckled, "Actually the hat wanted to put me in Gryffindor too. I had to beg and plead and spew all the crap my 'dear mother' fed me in order for it to put me in Slytherin. In the end, it was the fact that I was so afraid of a simple house placement that made the hat relent. Because Gryffindor's are brave and I was showing cowardice."

Eyeballs almost popping from their heads, the two other men just looked at him for a moment. Only coming back to their senses when Regulus told them to shut their mouths, or they'd ingest all the dust flying around.

The room descended into hushed conversation once more, as the groups were immersed in their own projects. So intent were they, in their discussions, that when a huge commotion sounded, they all nearly died of fright!

"Owwww!" A muffled groan echoed from the stairway.

"Ronald! Get off me! Now!" Another voice complained.

Another moan, "Sorry Mione, I tripped!"

"Ob-visually!"

Harry had made his way to the stairs and was watching them with amusement as Ron tried to maneuver his way off of Hermione, without crushing any of the many scrolls that were scattered throughout the length of the staircase.

He couldn't help it, he had to comment, it was just... funny! "Messing around I see? Ronald, I thought better of you. And you Hermione? First sleeping on the job, now this?!"

Hermione was not amused, although Ron was smiling. "Ha Ha, help me up Harry, while Ronald gather's the scrolls he made me drop... everywhere.

He reached out to help her with one hand, using his other hand to cast a silent accio. "Are you a witch or what?" He teased, as all her scrolls started to float and make their way towards him.

She stuck her tongue out, before tackling him to the ground. Now Harry was the one groaning. "What was that for?!"

"Look around and you tell me!" She gasped through giggles. "Say, did you specify which scrolls you were summoning?"

Looking around him, he noticed that they were surrounded by piles and piles of scrolls. He swallowed nervously, "Uh, no. Noted for next time." She patted him on the head, then helped him up. And the two of them began following Ron's voice to pull him from the pile of scrolls he suddenly found himself buried in.

"Accio My scrolls," Hermione said clearly. Oddly, more than she had started with flew over to her, but she would deal with that later. She waved her wand, banishing the remaining scrolls back to wherever they came from.

Brushing the dust off her skirt, Hermione turned to Harry, and commented about her newly multiplied scrolls. "Thanks to you, I no longer know which ones I took down when Tiny was telling me about the house and all the history. Now, I also, apparently, have previously unknown scrolls from somewhere in this ancient manor that apply to me."

He furrowed his eyebrows. "Really? That's weird. Maybe we should sort them first? Give the ones you wrote to, uh, maybe Percy and Kingsley? To go over. Then you, me, the twins and the other brothers can go through the others."

She nodded, adding, "maybe you should see if there are any about you, while we are at it. The twins would probably be hit by a mountain of scrolls if they tried, as everything related to any past Lord Gryffindor would react. Sirius and Regulus would be ok to try too, I think."

"Good points, but let's get through you first." He answered, while gesturing for everyone to gather round, "You're the one with the prophecy pending, after all."

Hermione nodded, and began sorting the old looking scrolls from the newer looking ones. The had just finished verifying that she had all the scrolls she had written that night separated from the others, when everyone was finally gathered together.

She smiled at the group, then explained the interruption, "Earlier, I had a nice talk with the head elf, she told me all about the castle, it's inhabitants, related families, history that could be relevant to anything we need to know. I took the liberty of writing it all down.

On our way up to meet you all, there was a bit of a mishap, and the scrolls were scattered all about. When I summoned them, specifying the ones relevant to me, more than I originally carried into this room were brought to me. I would like for my scrolls to be looked over by Kingsley and Percy, maybe Ronald and Neville could assist you if you need to find anything in the castle or library to research further?" All four wizards nodded, accepting their tasks.

"The rest of you, if you would kindly join me at the big table near the center of the room, I'd like to go over what is contained in the rest of the scrolls. Hopefully no more nasty surprises today!" That being said, Hermione made her way to the specified location, and set down the remaining scrolls.

They really could be anything, she mused, tall tales that related to someone that was distantly related to her, lists of properties that she was allowed access to as a friend of the new Lord Gryffindor's, anything to do with Merlin or prophecies. Not looking was maddening, but the thought of looking was no less so either!

As if sensing her unease, Harry laid a hand on her shoulder. "Breathe," he chided gently, "it's all going to be okay!"

Suddenly she felt, rather than saw the presence of the rest of her group. It was a rather odd sensation, if she was telling the truth. Still not looking up from the pile of scrolls in front of her, she reached out to grab one, when a hand landed on her own, pausing her actions.

She dared a glance, and her breath caught in her throat when she found herself staring into the blue gray eyes that haunted her dreams. "Hermione," Regulus breathed, "you aren't doing this alone. We are here with you, to help you, because we care about you. We care for you, and we want to be here with you."

"Don't stand there and be strong, when we all know you're terrified." George spoke from somewhere to her left.

"Let us shoulder some of the burden. You've always done it for us." Fred added from her right.

"I second all those opinions," Sirius contributed, coming to stand beside his brother, "I know I'm not alone in this, but I owe you my life. I'm not just going to sit here and watch you open ancient scrolls that could literally contain anything." He grabbed the scroll she had been about to, sliding it right from under her hand, swallowing hard he said, "This one is mine."

The others followed Sirius' lead, and the pile was almost halved. As soon as Hermione had retrieved her own scroll, they shared a tense nod. Then, collectively, they opened the scrolls.

"You have got to be kidding me!" She exclaimed loudly, looking down at the parchment as if it had personally offended her. "Your castle has your sense of humor my Lords" Hermione stated dryly, showing the group the scroll she had opened.

It contained nothing but the enchantments for a bunch of ancient beauty charms. And some nonsense about how females were best seen, preferably at their best, rather than heard.

"Ha, oh that's priceless." Fred responded, while laughing so hard tears streamed down his face. "Mines some junk about relics of time."

This perked Hermione up, "That May be a useful read though, we should make a 'Keep' pile and a 'Banish' pile." She suggested.

"Fantastic idea." Harry commented, "Me next! I have here, ladies and gents, the complete never ending scroll of Merlin centered fairy tales. Mainly centered on someone known as the Lady of the Lake. Sounds like a mermaid, if you ask me!"

"Nah," Sirius corrected, "gotta be the giant squids sister." Laughing at his own joke, he mock opened his scroll with much fanfare. "A missive about ancient wizarding families involved in 'the great pact'. Keep, I presume?" At her answering nod, George took his turn.

He cleared his throat dramatically, "I have the very important document, from one Achilles A. Emerys Pendragon Granger to Lord Gryffindor, regarding a dinner invitation that, and I quote, 'need be rescheduled, as (his) headstrong wife (was) currently holding him hostage by immobilizing him in a vat of jam, after he dared one taste without permission.' Something about Ravenclaws being too smart for their own good. Etc etc etc."

"Keep!" Regulus shouted, "She needs that over her bed, so she knows just where she gets her attitude from!" He continued, despite her offended muttering, "Ladies, because there are certainly no Gentleman here at the moment, I have a history lesson in my hands.

About Hogwarts herself. A precursor, it seems, to Hogwarts a history... much abridged, obviously. However, it does include many tidbits I've never heard of. One, for example, alleges that the hidden entrance to Avalon is on the grounds of the very school we all attended."

Hermione was practically salivating. "Keep!" She shrieked, "Keep, keep, keep, screw that, give it to me now!"

He chuckled, clasping it to his chest. "Mine." At her heartbroken look, he relented slightly, "You, me, talk later. After, the scroll is yours to ogle as you please."

She pursed her lips and glared at the man daring to keep such precious information from her.

"Alright lovebirds, that's enough of that" Sirius interrupted, "my turn again. Finish your creepy bibliophilic staring contest on your own time. I..." he situated the scroll in front of himself, "have a history of Morgana." He placed it into the 'Keep' pile.

Fred grimaced, "Better than mine, I've got a scroll on house elves and how they came to be how we know them to be. Warning: it's pretty graphic." He handed it to Hermione to decide which pile, eager to have the offending document out of his hands.

Knowing full well Hermione was going to keep the document in question, Harry rushed ahead. "This one is a study of the differences between 'man and wizard', as seen from the apparent Middle Ages version of a Blood Traitor... also pretty graphic, unfortunately. A blood traitor may have written it, but he appears to have been a bit of a sadist as well."

Hermione gestured to the 'Keep' pile, and George took his turn. "I've got a note about the prophecies. Supposedly transcribed from an original, written by Merlin himself. Good news, we know for sure this one is yours. We also now know the order of the others, so no one has to get shocked trying to figure it out. Bad news, they're not transcribed completely." He shrugged, "But maybe there's more to it than meets the eye."

"New pile: Keep and study immediately." Hermione instructed.

Regulus was next, however he wasn't looking like he wanted to. He actually looked a bit like he had swallowed a lemon. "I'm not reading this out loud." He declared, finally.

George grabbed it, took one look, then burst out laughing. "Love and s— hahaha! Sex magic! Ha! Hermione! You summoned a scroll about— hahaha! Aww poor Hermy." He teased.

Hermione banished the scroll directly from his hands, with a threatening look and a mention that she could banish other bits as well if he would like. "Thank you boys," She deadpanned looking between Regulus and the now very frightened Weasley twin. "My scroll details Merlin's resting place. Oddly, I don't see the word 'final', so I'm unsure if it is about his grave... or somewhere he lived..." she tossed it into the 'Keep' pile.

The last scroll was in Sirius' hand. The group watched with baited breath as he unrolled it with caution, and not just because it was so old and ragged. "It's about the keys, and markings from the ritual. I'm not sure it's specific to our ritual though... as it mentions marriage several times. There are probably variations, right? Because as much as I love Harry, I'm sorry, but I don't wish to be bound to him in matrimony!" He chuckled, tossing it in the 'Keep' pile.

Hermione reached out and moved it into the more pressing 'Keep' pile, managing to make a joke about un-banishing the sex magic scroll should she be unwittingly married. Because, why not, right?! Regulus and George made strangled noises from their respective spots around the table, being the two men involved in her portion of the ceremony, everyone else laughed heartily at their expense.

Scrolls sorted, they briefly discussed summoning scrolls pertaining to Harry, Sirius and Regulus, but as it was getting late, they decided another day would probably be better. They had had an awful lot of excitement for one day.

The twins set out to find Tiny, to ask the proper way for everyone to return to the Keep. And to catch some badly needed peace and quiet. Everyone else received a briefing from Kingsley on the information Hermione had handed the 'research group'.

————


	15. Tangles of the Heart

————

**Chapter 15**

—_Tangles of the Heart_ —

————

Regulus was internalizing what he would be saying to Hermione when they got a moment alone. He was supposed to be listening to what Kingsley's group had found while his had tackled the scrolls, but he just couldn't seem to focus on anything but the problem at hand. The problem, he found, was that everything he could think of was far too formal, or too rehearsed sounding, or just plain awful. How could he convince this girl that he was interested, he wondered, if he didn't even sound convincing to himself?

Unlike his brother, Sirius, he didn't have much in the way of experience. Not that Sirius had actually dated much, he was more fond of informal arrangements. The entire Black family, it seemed, was cursed with tangled hearts. They felt things, but were terrible with actual affection, or feelings in general.

He eventually decided that something too rehearsed was better than something not well thought out at all. And, treating it like an assignment from his favorite subject, he began to compile his masterpiece to the droning baritone of Kingsley's voice.

"Honeyed eyes and creamy thighs," He chuckled as he immediately crossed out what he had written, for the thousandth time. That particular line would come across as something totally inappropriate. Not that it wasn't true. "Why are girls so complicated?" He muttered.

Had he been paying attention, he would have noticed that Kingsley's last statement had just been made, consisting of two words: "Any questions?" And his muttering hadn't been as quiet as he had thought. But he wasn't paying attention in the least.

So, it was to his great surprise that the room suddenly exploded with laughter, bringing him back to cognizance fairly quickly. He blushed a brilliant crimson, and flashed an apologetic smile at the Minister, who gave him a knowing look in return.

To Regulus' mounting horror, Hermione was the one that answered the question he hadn't meant to ask. "Girls are _complicated_," she began, with a feminine version of his own predatory look, "because, boys are _idiots_." She shrugged, before finishing her mini monologue, "It's really not so hard to figure out! Granted, I'm not the only girl in the world, but that's about why _I'm_ so complicated at least. And I _am_ the only girl here, so... take it or leave it, I suppose."

Poor Regulus just shook his head dumbly, "Duly noted. I'd probably agree with that assessment, if it wouldn't paint me as an idiot for life... however, I -uh- may have been an idiot at a point or two recently." He spoke loud enough for everyone to hear, but was only looking at her.

The only girl in the room inclined her head, with a gentle smile. "You may have been," she agreed, watching as one by one the rest of their friends were leaving the room, until they were suddenly alone.

It was then she realized the look of real fear present within his eyes. "And then there were two," she whispered, before looking directly at him and asserting, "now, I believe you have something for me. A _scroll_, perhaps?"

As if coming back to himself, he smirked haughtily, "Do I? _Hmm_, I may be able to be talked out of a certain scroll." He dared not take even a step closer to her, as much as he wanted to, for fear of scaring her off again.

She looked to her feet and sighed, and he feared he was losing her anyway. But then, much to his relief, she laughed, causing hope to blossom in his chest.

"I'm very good at talking... well, I do a lot of it in any case. I am _not_, however, very good at apologizing or admitting I've done anything wrong." She looked up once more before continuing, "I fear I've got to do both of those things... Forgive me, if I babble a bit while I figure out exactly how to do so."

Stepping forward, only slightly, Regulus cut her off, "I spent the entire time Kingsley was talking, trying —unsuccessfully might I add— to find the right words to say to you. Believe me, I get it.

What I don't get, is why I was acting like such a complete... well, an idiot, there's really no other way to say it."

"It appears we were being idiots together, at least," Hermione laughed. "You've been nothing but kind and congenial, since you appeared in my life." She turned her back to him, still talking, "You've done nothing to me to offend my status as a human being, or any others that I've seen." Hermione turned again, stepping forward slightly and staring into his eyes, "But me? I was so wrapped up in myself, in clinging on to the identity that I thought I had —and the placement of other people into my own predefined categories—that I absolutely refused to see what was plainly in front of me. Who was plainly in front of me."

Unnoticed by him, she had been steadily getting closer, until her hand rested on his chest and she admitted, "I don't know who I am anymore, and it's got me so off balance. It doesn't excuse how I've reacted, but I hope it's enough for your forgiveness?"

Head spinning, he nodded his head, seeing her hopeful look. Regulus Black, ever ready with a quick remark, tried to speak, only to find that his breath was caught in his throat.

She looked down in disappointment, thinking he wouldn't answer. Her hand dropped from its spot on his chest, and suddenly he surged forward, catching it in his own, and simultaneously finding his words.

"You don't need my forgiveness, but it's yours!" He rushed. "So long as I have yours as well."

He took a moment to gather his thoughts, then spoke hesitantly, "Admittedly, I'm rubbish at this, at showing most emotions actually... I just— I thought that saying I'd changed from who I was, was enough. Then I realized it's not the words, it's the actions that count. And my actions have been... somewhat erratic, at best. For that I am truly sorry."

Hermione dropped his hand, smiling, and cupped his cheek, "Of course I forgive you, you've shown me the same kindness just now after all!"

He could breathe again, he realized. In fact, Regulus felt lighter than he ever had. He could feel the tangles in his heart, loosening and smoothing out. Maybe the Black family wasn't a lost cause after all. Maybe most of them just hadn't made the right connections yet. He dared to hope he had.

He blinked, and found himself impossibly close to her. So close her breath tickled his cheek with every exhale. "Hermione?" He breathed.

The woman before him lifted her eyes from his lips, to his own, murmuring a "hmm?", as her tongue darted out to wet her lips.

Regulus reached out his left hand to take her own, as he all but growled out, "May I kiss you?"

She nodded resolutely, smiling serenely as their fingers intertwined. Her eyelids fluttered closed as his lips touched hers, feeling impossibly soft against her own.

————

Regulus' stomach was doing little flips, which was strange to him, but not unwelcome. In fact, come to think of it, his whole body felt strange. Almost as if he were floating. He opened his eyes, briefly, finding the space oddly dark.

Moving to pull away from the kiss, however regretfully, he noted that he couldn't. Seeing as he had no control or feeling of his body.

"Hermione?!" He gasped, "Something's... gone wrong!"

He felt, the frustration in her voice, "Nothing is simple with us is it?" Wondering how long they'd been like this without realizing it.

"Us?" He laughed, despite the situation he currently found himself in, "You and I 'us', or 'us' as a whole group?"

She joined in his laughter, "The later is a given. Always has been, always will be. Just now, however, I was referring to 'us' as in you and I.

"Glad to hear it." He quipped.

She snorted, "You like things complicated?"

"No, no. Of course not! I like that there's an us." He clarified. This not being able to see or touch thing was definitely getting to his head.

She hmm'ed, before deadpanning, "I'd like it more if there was an ancient scroll detailing the previously undocumented history of Hogwarts in my hand."

"Touché, my dear." He smirked, "And you will have it, as soon as our bodies work again."

"Regulus?" She giggled, the sound almost disconcerting coming from her.

"Yes?" He answered, he could almost feel his own fear at what could possibly be following a giggle such as that. The girl was scary and brilliant after all, just as everyone who knows her would say.

In fact he almost swore he could feel—"You can open your eyes now." She whispered directly in his ear, causing him to jump, then fall over in shock, as the action caused him to lose his balance.

His eyes flew open, just in time to catch her satisfied smirk turning to one of awe. "The keys!" She gasped, turning to help him up, "How could we forget about the keys?!"

"Mistress cannot have lost her keys!" A voice giggled from somewhere nearby, "They are on her hand, silly Mistress."

"Hello?" Regulus called, wondering to whom the disembodied voice belonged. "Show yourself!" He demanded.

They heard a shuffling noise, and a gasp of "oh!" before a clicking noise, like someone snapping, turned the rolling, grassy meadow before them into something else entirely.

"Sorry, I forgot!", said a girl looking to be about ten or twelve, while wringing the hem of her purple skirt nervously.

"Hello," Hermione said gently, bending down slightly to be at eye level with the little blonde haired girl. "My name is Hermione, and who might you be?"

The girl lifted her eyes from the floor, revealing that they were impossibly green, like the color of a blade of grass, freshly sprouted. She did a little curtsy, "I am Daisy, Mistress, at your service!"

"Mistress?" Hermione questioned, crinkling her eyes.

Daisy nodded, "Yes, am I not worthy of you?" She seemed to deflate before them.

"No, no," Hermione corrected quickly, "of course you are worthy, Daisy! I just find myself confused. Where are we, and what am I Mistress of, exactly?"

And suddenly, Daisy understood, "Oh! Daisy is a bad elf!" She murmured to herself, catching both Hermione and Regulus off guard.

"Elf?" Regulus questioned. She certainly didn't look like any elf he had ever seen!

Daisy nodded absently, "Yes, you know like the assistants of enchantresses?" She rolled her eyes, "Don't tell me you've never seen an elf before?"

Regulus could only shake his head dumbly and whisper, "Not like you, at least. Our house elves are... gnarled little stubby things... like... well, Kreacher." The Black family house elf appeared and the elf before him recoiled in shock.

"What have they done to you?!" She shrieked, suddenly angry.

Kreacher, meanwhile was too shocked to speak. He instinctively knew just what was before him, but he had thought them only myth. True elves, without the perversions cast upon the species by wizard kind centuries ago, were all but extinct. But his own eyes saw her. He blinked them, then rubbed them, then sunk to the floor.

"Kreacher?" Regulus prodded the elf, startled. "What's wrong?!" He turned to Hermione, "I've never seen him this way before..."

"He's been cursed! Defiled!" The blonde elf ranted.

Regulus tried to calm her, "He's always been this way. He was born in my house, his mother appeared the same way. We never knew elves were supposed to be... like you."

She shook her head, golden strands flying through the air, "Bring him, now!" And she dashed off, leaving them to follow her through unfamiliar building. A dazed Kreacher cradled in his masters arms.

Daisy stopped before a large copper door, set amongst the stone walls. Pushing the door open with much effort, she walked inside, gesturing for them to follow.

"Do you feel that?" Hermione whispered to Regulus. It felt like... energy... or.

"Power!" Regulus gasped, feeling it wash over him. "It's raw power. From ... life, the world, everything... what is this place?!" He followed the two women into what turned out to be some sort of cavern. A shallow stream ran through the center of the room, glowing as raw power ran through crystals embedded in its stone banks.

As they watched, Daisy summoned what appeared to be a bezoar, before slicing her palm with some kind of sharpened stone. "Get in the water," She gasped.

Regulus didn't need to be told twice. He stepped into the cool water, relishing the feeling of it is it flowed around him. It was deep enough Kreacher was all but immersed in his arms. At Daisy's order, he opened his elf's mouth and watched with mild disgust as she put the blood soaked bezoar inside of it.

Kreacher swallowed it, gagging slightly at first. Then the female elf began chanting in an unknown, but presumably elfin, language, and he began to change.

As Hermione and Regulus watched, the house elf's skin smoothed, and changed from green to grey, from grey to peach, from peach to alabaster. His hair went from a gnarled tuft of straw colored twine, to soft, sleek blonde locks. The elf's eyes shrank, as his skin became more supple, the iris' changing from black to brown, then amber, settling on the same startling green as Daisy's, before slamming shut.

Finally, with a series of pops, the elf's spine straightened, and he appeared to have grown at least a foot and a half. And, with a strangled gasp, Kreacher opened his eyes, and began to sob. Muttering unintelligibly, although the words thankful and amazing seemed to play a prevalent role.

"Daisy!" Hermione gasped, rushing to the Elfin girl. "That was so beautiful! We didn't know there was anything wrong with Kreacher, except his poor attitude at times." She hesitated before asking the true question on her mind. "Are all elves supposed to look this way?"

The girl looked at her sharply, "Do you know many elves that look as he did?"

Hermione shrunk back, nodding sadly, as Regulus answered her question. "They all look like that. We have never seen an elf such as yourself. They are, much to Hermione's chagrin, the servants of the wizarding families, and often treated no better than cockroaches. Honestly, I've grown up with them my whole life, and never even heard mention of them being another way."

The elf looked saddened beyond belief, "I see." She said carefully. "I will have to teach your friend the old ways then, he will assist me in fixing this... abhorrent act against my people. Yes, we often tie ourselves to wizarding families, because their magic allows us to prosper and be all the stronger for it. But we are not less than them, it's meant to be a mutually beneficial bond. Not an enslavement."

"I tried to free the elves, when I was in school. But I was told they live to serve, and the threat of freeing them angered them." Hermione told Daisy.

The elf laughed, "I mean, severing a tie the wrong way could cause the elf to die, would you be mad if someone, even kindly, offered to kill you while telling you you'd live a better life that way?"

Burying her face in her hands, Hermione moaned, "Yes."

"Ok so you've healed my elf, and are going to teach him to do the same to others. That's honestly fantastic, but we still don't know where we are, or why? It was quite the accident we ended up here." Regulus stated, gazing at the green eyed elf, "May we at least have a hint?"

As if it were the most obvious thing in the world, she stated, "You've been here before, but never from this view. Both closer and farther than you've ever been from what you've always known."

They stared at her, eyes wide, minds racing. The list of places they've both been was probably pretty short, Hermione thought, they were definitely not at Grimmauld Place, or any of their friends homes or places of work. Not Diagon Alley.

Hogsmeade may have some open grassy places with rolling hills, she mused, but she couldn't recall any from her visits to the village. She voiced her thoughts to Regulus, who nodded, thinking.

He shook his head after a moment, he had explored Hogsmeade extensively, in his youth. No rolling hills to be found. Then, thinking back once more, he remembered quidditch. The view from above the pitch, to be exact, looking into the distance.

"The scroll!" He said scrambling to locate it in the pocket of his robe. Drawing it out, and casting a duplication spell, he placed the original back in his pocket. He unrolled the scroll quickly, as he was unafraid of damaging the replica, scanning its contents until he found what he was looking for. "Here!" He said excitedly, pointing to a section and waiting as Hermione read it.

She gasped. "No..." looking at Daisy, then back to the scroll, she opened her mouth and read aloud, "Through the Black lake, according to legend, lies the entrance to Avalon. Allegedly nestled, amongst the rolling hills, on the other side of the Forbidden Forest."

Looking back at the elf, Hermione was surprised to see her smiling. "Welcome to Avalon, Mistress." And then she knew no more.

————

_1400's, England_

The Families of Merlin were gathering, to discuss the final preparations for their plans. The head of each branch was accounted for, save for one, that of the Emerys family itself.

Achilles Emerys had made a last minute stop to the estate of his many times great grandmother. To bathe in its healing waters for what may be the last time. He had just left the stream when an odd object appeared in his hand.

He got the strange sense that it was urgent for failsafes to be implemented in the plan, and hurriedly set off to visit Lord Gryffindor to see to it that they were the strongest they could be.

The object in hand, he greeted his old friend, who immediately took an interest in it.

Together they examined the strange cylindrical container, that was labeled unlike anything either man had seen before. To their surprise and delight it contained something not only edible, but also delicious. At least that was the account of Lord Gryffindor, as Lord Emerys was too afraid to eat something both magical and unknown.

"I wish Godric could have seen this! According to legend he had quite the taste for all things edible, and mysterious." Lord Gryffindor declared, as Lord Emerys finally decided he wasn't going to die if he were to partake in a mysterious delicacy.

Still chewing, Achilles nodded, "Salazar too," he added to the other mans statement, "although he'd probably go into hiding, waiting to see what became of his brave friend.

As scared as he was of muggles, I doubt he would dare do anything so rash as to take the first bite. At least with muggles you can see their reactions coming ahead of time."

"Can you imagine?" The other man guffawed, "Lord Gryffindor would probably look at him and say, 'Lord Slytherin, I dare you to eat one, then create a cave so you can slither into it and hide like the coward you are.' Before he even took a bite."

Achilles snorted, "And Slytherin would retaliate 'Well I dare you Godric Gryffindor to turn your hat into a way to sort which students are yours, so you don't have to bicker with us, 'simple minded fools', ever again.' They'd bicker a while, then dinner would come around and all would be well with the world" the two old friends shook their heads, both laughing heartily before realizing that they were wasting valuable time, and one of them was running late for a very important meeting of heads. Literally, and figuratively.

Neither noticed the object disappearing once more, as they were too busy planning for the supposed downfall of their houses, for now. And devising ways to make sure they were returned to their former glory in the future, despite the plans being made by the rest of their peers. Just in case.

————


	16. The Land Between Time

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**Chapter Sixteen**

—

_—The Land Between Time—_

————

This had to be the strangest dream she'd ever had, Hermione thought. She was strangely cool, and her eyelids felt so very heavy. Despite this, she really didn't want to open her eyes.

It was fantastical, for sure, the idea of finding not only Godric Gryffindor's lost Keep, but also the mythical Isle of Avalon. But it wasn't realistic in the least.

Plus, that whole bit about Kreacher and the other house elves being, well, not as they were supposed to be... where did her mind even come up with that stuff? She wondered, tracing the rough edges of the stone she was laying on. —wait, the stone?

Hermione's eyes flew open, and she struggled to sit up, looking around wildly and trying to comprehend just what she was seeing. "It was real?" She whispered.

Her eyes landed on the small male, sitting serenely near the edge of the stream, feet kicking idly within its gently flowing waters. He looked like a young boy, a perfectly healthy one. "Kreacher?" She questioned, her voice coming out more unsteady than she would have liked. Truthfully, to her own ears, she sounded a bit mad.

The boy turned, and gave her a small smile of reassurance. "Miss Hermione!" He intoned in a silky voice that was almost reminiscent of flowing water, "You're awake! We were worried for you."

Looking around, she noticed they were alone in the room. Seeing her question before she could voice it, he laughed, "Daisy took Master Regulus to get some refreshments, they will be back momentarily. I offered to wait for you to awaken, so you weren't alone."

If her eyes could have widened any more, they would have at that moment. There really had been something wrong with the elf! "Thank you Kreacher, that was very kind of you. And how are you feeling? That didn't look like much of a pleasant ordeal."

The elf stretched, and smiled lazily, "I would go through it a thousand times over if I knew I would feel one tenth the way I feel now! We were told stories, as small elves— my siblings and I— stories of the true elves... never did I think they were true." He shrugged, "But when Master Regulus called me today, I felt the sameness from Daisy that I feel with all elves, only something— more? It's hard to describe. I just knew!"

Hermione thought he was done, and moved to speak, but he started again, excitedly this time. "And to think, she is going to teach me everything she knows! Getting to heal the house elves that have no idea there is anything wrong with them... it's, well it's better than the Headmistress putting me in charge of the ancient wards of Hogwarts!"

She bowed her head, "That is wonderful Kreacher, I'm very excited for you."

"You're a good person Miss Hermione." The elf said softly, "I'm glad Master Regulus has chosen you. You have been good for him. I hope he is good for you too."

Not knowing how to respond, Hermione stayed silent but smiled at the Elfin boy.

She was rescued by the return of Daisy and Regulus, the later of which rushed to her side when he saw she had awoken. Checking to make sure she was alright.

"I'm fine Regulus. It was just a bit much to take in, I suppose." She laughed, then turned to the female elf, "So, Daisy, Avalon. Tell me more? What is it to me, why am I here, why are you here?"

Smiling, the female elf began her story.

————

The Isle of Avalon, although technically not an island, is separated from the real world by a barrier of mists. The mists of time, to be exact.

The island was home to many amazing plants and animals, and was truly the only one like it on the Earth. At times they called it the fruitful island, as it hosted apple trees, and orchards of many types, wheat fields, and healing herbs. None of which needed tending, because they took care of themselves. The island took care of its inhabitants as if they were valued guests.

After being passed down female to female for generations, this tradition ended suddenly hundreds of years ago, as a pact was enacted by a group known as the Families of Merlin. A pact that hid the island and all linked properties until they could be revived once more, by those chosen by Merlin himself.

Daisy had been chosen by Morgana le Fay herself to be the guardian of the island. Although she had been known by many names in the history of her existence, including the lady of the lake, Daisy was her preferred name. She had chosen it herself.

The female recipient of the estates ownership was granted the title of the Mistress of Life. Due to the healing properties and Magic's on the island, of course. Although, the technical term for the one inheriting, would be Lady le Fay.

To Hermione, Daisy explained, Avalon was a birthright. Although it could also be a home, a refuge, a new start. It could be anything she wanted it to be. So long as it remained a secret to the world of man, who would seek to destroy it or claim ownership of it it for their own selfish desires of eternal life.

Hermione was there because she had the keys, as Merlin's prophecy had played out to that effect. She had used the key, unknowingly as it may have been, and thus was in the place where she would claim her birthright, should she desire to do so.

————

Regulus watched the woman before him, enraptured by the emotions swimming within her eyes. She was told her wildest dreams were true and that she controlled them, yet instead of weeping with joy or plotting world domination, she simply raised her chin and listened to the elf before her as she told her more and more.

He wanted nothing more than to take her into his arms, and let her know he was here with her, for her. That he would be always. But he knew this was something she needed to experience on her own. As life changing of a moment as it was, she needed a chance to stand on her own two feet and be in complete control of her own destiny.

When given the chance to accept her fate, or deny her destiny, he watched her unflinchingly accept. The ceremony had been a short one, led by the little Elfin girl that was older than he could stand to think about.

Hermione had been instructed to disrobe, throughly hidden from shoulders to knees by the mists of time themselves, and walk into the water. As the elf spoke once more in her enchanting natural language, the waters had glowed, flowing around Hermione in a wash of colors, looking for all the world like liquid fire.

At its crescendo, the woman had appeared to be fully engulfed in flames, and he nearly ran to her to save her from what his eyes perceived as her imminent demise. He had restrained himself, barely. It helped that Kreacher came to stand next to him, placing a calming hand on his shoulder.

When she emerged from her cocoon she was a changed woman. Not so much in the looks department, but in the way she carried herself, almost regally. Although there were a couple more physical changes as well.

He gasped when he noticed that her eyes, once the color of honey, had become the most otherworldly deep green color he had ever seen, like molten emeralds. Her hair, the amazing mass of riotous curls cascading from her head, appeared to have streaks of flames running through it. She had to be the most beautiful creature he had ever laid eyes on, he thought.

Nodding, Daisy wrapped her in a thin white gown made of spider silk, and affixed a dainty necklace, bearing the same symbol that adorned his forearm, around her neck. The tree of life.

Suddenly, the necklace let off a burst of light, and heat flared through his body. He looked down, just in time to see the mark on his arm glowing with the same light.

He could feel her, he realized. All her wonder, mirroring his own. Her surprise, and happiness, her relief. She had a purpose again. It was new, and she was trying to understand it still, but it was hers. And she would claim it gladly. Regulus smiled, a true smile for the woman before him, and bowed, with a reverently whispered, "My Lady."

"My Knight," she answered, lowering her head. And suddenly the trance was ended as she, in typical Hermione fashion, joked, "although I'd like to know where the shining armor is."

Yes, all was right with the world, at last. For now, at least, but at the rate they were going...they would take all the moments of normalcy that they could get.

As for Regulus, after carefully noting the mood in the room, he rose and stood before her. He dropped his head to kiss her gently once more, hopeful that nothing crazy would happen this time. They'd had enough of that for one day.

"Regulus?" Hermione whispered against his chest after they broke apart.

He looked down at her, "Hmm?"

She smiled, then yawned, saying, "Third times the charm."

He nodded and, scooping her into his arms, apparated them back to Grimmauld Place, after telling the grinning little elf they'd return for a proper tour another day.

————

Hermione was fast asleep by the time they arrived. Which wouldn't have been a problem had Regulus known where her room was. However, he was not privy to that information, and she was in no state to tell him. He had tried.

Neither Harry nor Sirius were around, and one look at the clock told him that they were probably sleeping. It was after midnight, after all. He didn't want to call Kreacher, who had stayed behind on Avalon to get to know Daisy and possibly learn something from her.

He could have brought her to his room, but that would mean dealing with his mothers portrait. And after the day he had experienced, he definitely didn't have it in him to do that.

Leaving her on a couch wasn't appealing, although he could probably transfigure one into something resembling a comfortable sleeping place. It didn't seem like the right end to the night though. No, she needed an actual bed tonight.

He could put her in his father's old room, he supposed. It may be a shock for her upon waking up, but it was better than the alternatives.

Slowly, the dark haired man carried the sleeping witch up the stairs and down the hallway towards his father's room. Once he manages to open the door without dropping his precious cargo, he maneuvered his way to the bed, and gently lowered her down onto it.

She looked so peaceful, Regulus thought, as she lay there in her white spider silk dress, hair splayed out over the pillows in a wild rush of fiery curls. He sat on the edge of the bed, running his fingers through her hair, just watching her for an untold amount of time.

What was he doing? He wondered. He wasn't worth the affections of such a rare treasure. He had done things, terrible things, ones that he could never take back. But oh, how he wished he could!

He pictured them, the eyes of his victims. The ones he stared into as they screamed out their last breath. All in the name of that monster! They haunted him every day. He hoped they existed still on some level, to find solace in some form of happiness. He hoped that he hadn't robbed them of everything for all time.

He knew, it was stupid to think like that. They were snuffed out like some candles in the wind. Most of them well before their time. Who was he to hope for absolution?

But the vision in white, the thing of beauty here beside him, she made him want to hope. Even when it felt hopeless. Tonight, watching her transform, was like watching her be reborn.

He had watched an unsure, broken woman walk into that water, head held high with a resolve she had borrowed from Merlin only knew where. What walked out of it, was anything but. He could tell she was exhausted, and that she had faced down some unknown personal demons that night. Nothing else could have caused that kind of a shift, she wasn't the type to care about titles or power, after all.

Briefly, his eyes flicked to her face, so serene in her slumber. He wished more than anything for that kind of peace.

And then, eyes closed, she spoke. "Stop staring, it's creepy."

Regulus couldn't stop the chuckle that spilled out of his mouth. "Sorry, I was just thinking." He said, moving to stand up and leave her to her sleep.

"Don't leave." She she breathed, while moving over on the bed. "At least hold me while you think, it's cold in here." She whined sleepily.

Again, he marveled at her acceptance of him. It was almost overwhelmingly sudden. But then again, as he had come to learn, this witch didn't do anything half way. It was all or nothing with Hermione Granger.

At his hesitation, she opened her eyes, squinting to see him in the dark room. "What are you thinking? She asked, reaching out and tugging him down to her side.

Instinctively, his arm wrapped around her, and pulled her snuggly against him. She sighed in contentment, relishing the warmth. "You're so amazing. So... good. I'm not sure a wizard like me deserves a witch like you." He admitted. It was harder to hear his own voice say it out loud.

He could almost feel her roll her eyes. It was like she knew his train of thought, he noted with surprise, when her next words floated to his ears. "It was war Regulus. We all did things we aren't proud of, no matter which side we were on." He felt her shrug.

Could it really be that simple? He wondered. It surely didn't feel that simple. He said as much, and she sighed in response. "But it is. We were all just trying to survive." She insisted, yawning, "Can we sleep now?"

Regulus pressed a kiss to the top of her head, as he felt his eyelids grow heavy. The last thing he heard as he drifted off was her almost unintelligible words, whispered into the darkness. "I'm not so innocent either, you know."

————


	17. Much Ado About Nothing

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**Chapter Seventeen**

—

—_Much Ado About Nothin_g—

————

There was something on her stomach, Hermione thought sleepily. It tickled! She reached out to brush it away, only to find that it was bigger than expected. Not to mention that, upon inspection, she noted it was attached to something much bigger.

Blearily, she glanced down, hoping against hope that it wasn't something poisonous. It was covered by the blanket, drat. She carefully maneuvered so as to be able to lift the corner of the blanket, when she felt movement behind her. It shook the bed with... laughter?

"Morning sunshine," the gravely voice rumbled. "Whatchya doin?"

Peering behind her, she was greeted with the sight of now familiar grey blue eyes. Regulus. Hermione wrinkled her nose, "It tickled." she said by way of explanation. "Thought for a second it was some misshapen acromantula or something..."

His eyes crinkled in laughter, "Do you often wake up crawling with poisonous creatures? What part of this blasted house did you take up residence in?"

Shifting so she faced him, Hermione stuck out her tongue, "Not lately, thankfully... and I live in the good part of this house, thank you very much."

Regulus pressed a kiss to her forehead, before standing up, saying "I'm sure you do Miss Hermione."

"I'd show you, but it's a secret!" She teased, winking at the man before her.

He chuckled, raising an eyebrow in defiance, "Not sure there are many of those left around here."

She shook her head, and rolled out of the bed gracefully. "Close your eyes Mister Black," she demanded, grasping his elbow as he complied.

Hermione purposefully took him the long way, backtracking past the library, and making a complete loop before passing through the barrier for the final time. He hadn't peeked a single time, despite the confused expression on his face. "I need to freshen up," she stated, pushing him into one of the bathrooms, and telling him to open his eyes.

He did so, and his eyes about popped out of his head while he took in the scene before him. He vaguely realized that she was still talking, and tuned back in to catch the rest of what she had been saying.

"I'm sure you need to get situated as well," she explained, "I'll be back in a few minutes. Maybe take a nice bath to fix your... bedhead?"

As she left, with a smirk on her lips, hips swaying in that damned white dress, he hazarded a glance in the mirror and realized with shock and dismay that she was indeed right.

That girl was always so full of surprises.

He sunk into the bath, turning the taps to dispense various potions and bubbles, the action reminding him of the prefects bathroom at Hogwarts. This had been hiding in his house, he marveled. What else did she know that he didn't?

It boggled his mind that his mother could have looked down on a woman like Hermione, simply because of her birth. Even if the question of her actual blood status was up in the air now, to him it was irrelevant. How many other muggleborns were in the same category? He wondered idly as he washed himself.

Stepping from the tub some time later, he was assaulted by warm gusts of air, and suddenly found himself dry again. Ah, he loved magic!

Finding his wand among his robes, Regulus banished the dirty garments, and summoned a fresh outfit. Deeming it fitting, in a rare moment of rebellion against his long dead mother, to forgo his standard robes.

He had just finished lacing up his shiny black dragon hide shoes, when Hermione's head popped into the doorway, eyes covered with her hands. "Are you decent?" She asked.

"No?" He smirked, "I'm never decent. Sorry love."

Laughing, she dropped her hands and took in the sight of him. She'd never seen him sans robes before. In her opinion, that was a shame. "Tragedy," She deadpanned, "if you were decent I may have shown you more secrets and wonders of your boyhood home."

"Ok, ok, I'll be decent" he backtracked, before adding "but only for you."

She nodded and held out her hand, careful to make sure it was the right one, so they didn't unintentionally wind up somewhere else again. Pulling him from the bathroom, she paused to let him take in the previously unknown expanse of hallway. "I may have redecorated a bit," she admitted, "it was just as dreary as the rest of the house."

He nodded appreciatively, wondering what he would be shown next.

As if reading his thoughts, she took him to the ball room, with its adjoining parlors. Again he gaped. The expressions stuck until they were moving again, at which point it became one of awe.

Hermione noticed a second later that he was not awed at the magnificent dining hall, as she would have expected, but instead at the spectacle taking place inside of it. Her best friend, the boy who lived to find trouble, Harry Potter himself, was trussed up like the prize pig at the state fair.

The bespectacled boy, it seemed, had gotten himself into a bit of a bind. One that left him hogtied and at the mercy of a familiar childlike elf.

"Potter," Regulus called out haughtily, reminding Hermione of a certain blonde haired Slytherin from the nightmares of her youth, "what are you doing on top of the table? Do you fantasize about being breakfast, rather than eating it?"

The other man didn't think his joke was as funny as he did, apparently, as he appealed to Hermione for help, after scoffing at the youngest member of the Black family. "I came in to get some breakfast not long ago, called for Kreacher and this kid showed up. I immediately drew my wand, because I don't know him, but before I knew it I was tied up on the table I intended to eat at!" He ranted, "What on Earth is going on, Hermione? I just want some bloody eggs!"

Hermione glared at the elf, and the man on the table, she spoke to her friend first, explaining to him that the boy in front of her was an elf, the elf they know very well, named Kreacher. She turned to the elf, frowning, "Untie him please, Kreacher. He shouldn't have pointed his wand at you, yes, but to be fair you look just a bit different. You know this."

"I tried to tell him, Miss Granger. He didn't believe me." The elf responded dejectedly, before the corners of his mouth turned up and he began to smirk, "When he got angry and pulled out his wand, I decided to have a little fun. Do you blame me, Miss?" He questioned, innocently.

Hermione sighed, feeling a headache coming on already. It was too early for all this testosterone laced posturing. She waved her hand and Harry was freed. "Kreacher, I won't order you to do it, but I believe you owe Harry an apology. Harry I suggest you do the same to Kreacher, he's just been healed of a curse that's affected all of his kind for Merlin only knows how long. Apparently it's addled his brain a bit, this morning, but I'm sure he will endeavor to behave from now on."

The males stared at each other, neither wanting to be the first to apologize, both feeling they were in the right for acting like they had. Finally, Harry relented, with a sullen, "Sorry Kreacher. I didn't know it was you, won't happen again."

The elf preened, clearly pleased he had won some sort of a contest in not being the first to cave, "Thank you, young Master Potter. I apologize for making you the centerpiece in the breakfast spread." He said, snapping his fingers causing breakfast to appear on the table Harry had just removed himself from.

Everything necessary for a breakfast spread, heavy on the bacon, with no eggs in sight. "Kreacher." Hermione warned.

The elf sighed and the eggs appeared, as he popped back out of the room. "Thank you." She said to the empty spot where the elf had just been.

She elbowed Regulus, who had been enjoying the scene that played out a little too much. "Thanks for helping, Reg, I don't know what I would have done without your assistance." She said sarcastically, as he cringed away from the physical attack.

He had the decency to look contrite, "Sorry? It was just... funny. I got caught up in the moment." He brightened, suddenly laughing, "Just imagine when Sirius calls for his breakfast."

Hermione grimaced, having the foreboding feeling that that's exactly where the elf had popped off to in such a hurry. Sirius had been the bane of Kreacher's existence for years, and the feeling was quite mutual. "Oh, yay." She deadpanned, rolling her eyes, "We should have left the little bugger cursed!"

Casting a warming charm on the food, Hermione hurried off to rescue the older Black sibling. The two males hot on her heels. One grumbling crankily about hunger, the other cackling in anticipation of what they may find when they made it to the kitchen.

Her feeling was proved right when they began to hear yelling about halfway down the stairs. "Look kid, I don't know who you are but you're in the wrong house." They heard Sirius' attempt at civility.

"But mister!" The elf yelled, apparently playing dumb at this point.

"'But mister' nothing young man! Go home this instant." The yells we're getting increasingly louder, giving way to wails, as Kreacher decides to play the part of a child that had been wronged.

He deserved a medal for the performance, Hermione thought, letting a smile slip onto her face. The scene became visible moments later.

"I can't go home! I can't... I can't, sir!" The elf cried, from his spot on the floor.

Sirius looked stricken, clearly not prepared to deal with this situation, even if he had been properly awake. "Uhhhh..." he panicked, "why can't you go home?" Clearly he was improvising.

The elf threw a wink to the newcomers as he got up off the floor and acted like nothing was wrong in the first place. "I am home. Duh."

"No..." Sirius drew the word out, "this is my home. I think you're confused."

The elf mimicked him in response, causing a shocking red color to blossom across Sirius' body as he became irate. A look that turned to confusion as the elf plainly stated, "I was born here, mister, this is the only home I've ever known."

"What?" Sirius gaped, "Who are you?!"

The elf grinned, pleased that the man was catching on at least a little bit, "You just called me for breakfast, clearly you already know who I am."

Sirius blinked stupidly, and Hermione decided to step in, before Kreacher broke Sirius for good.

"Ah, Sirius, you found Kreacher!" She praised the confused man, "Little bugger had quite the day yesterday as you can see. Did you know elf's were supposed to look like this? We didn't, but hey you can't know everything all the time, right?" The older man nodded dumbly.

"Join us for breakfast?" His brother offered, gesturing for him to follow them. "Harry and Hermione have a surprise for you. And Kreacher has some important stuff to learn today I think?" He prompted, and the elf smiled brightly, nodding before taking his leave.

Disaster averted, Harry led the group back up the stairs, where Sirius finally returned to the smart ass they knew and loved. Especially when Harry told him of his own experience with the house elf.

All in all the morning didn't turn out as bad as Hermione had feared it would. Harry and Sirius had another opinion of the mornings events, but it was quickly put to rest nonetheless. Especially when Harry took the group around to show them the entirety of what he had found hidden in plain sight in Grimmauld Place.

————

Hermione had called the twins over that afternoon, to update everyone as to what had happened after they'd left the Griffins Keep the previous night. It was much easier to do it as a group, rather than explaining everything multiple times. She had summoned both Kreacher and Daisy, which made it all easier, since Daisy took over the explanation unprompted.

The twins, having a bond with their new elf Tiny, hadn't wanted her to suffer and thus had summoned her as well, sending her off to Avalon with the other two elves. Apparently all the elves from the Griffins Keep would be going there one by one, at Daisy's insistence.

Kreacher was ecstatic to see the process that had changed him so throughly first hand, while not experiencing its effects. Even more so to have the opportunity to learn how to do it himself. He was all but insufferable in his excitement, and the non-elves found themselves glad they didn't have to partake in the series of ceremonies.

Once the procession of elves had left the building, the wizards— and witch— got down to business. They would explore Avalon once the elves were healed, both from the Keep, and Hogwarts, since those were the two places they knew a bunch of elves resided. And also after they were able to make it through the scrolls they had found and deigned worth keeping.

It could take a while, Hermione thought.

Regulus surprised the group by suggesting they invite Percy. It seemed the two boys had bonded over growing pains with siblings. And, to the surprise of exactly no one present, the twins had agreed immediately and had sent a message to him via patronus to stop by headquarters after work.

Withdrawing the most pressing scroll, the one about the prophecies, Hermione began to read, pausing every so often to spit out a fact for someone to decipher and/or write down.

————

Percy arrived at Grimmauld Place that day to find a scene straight out of his dreams. Everyone was gathered in the library, nestled among stacks of books. Barely a word could be heard. He announced his arrival by clearing his throat, and was pleased when his brothers smiled up at him, gesturing for him to join them.

"Fancy meeting you lot amongst the stacks," he joked. Feeling completely at home for the first time in a long time. It was nice to be on friendly terms with his family once more, he decided.

Fred grinned, "Don't enjoy it too much. We haven't entered an alternate universe."

"Yet," George added with a wink and a smile of his own. "Although, we have found ourselves to be mixed up in some pretty strange stuff lately."

They spent a moment filling him in on the prophecies and the happenings of the day. Watching as his face changed with the stories progression. Currently, it had settled on a blank expression, having reached what they deemed to be information overload.

"I know the Golden Trio had many adventures at Hogwarts," Percy stated carefully, "But I assumed that they would stay there. After the war finished and all."

The twins laughed. "That would be too convenient, wouldn't it?" Harry said from his table a few feet away.

"Could have at least had the decency to not drag us in, eh Harry?" George joked.

The oldest redhead had been silent for a while, having some sort of an internal conflict he was trying to resolve. But, with a brusque nod, he steeled himself for the onslaught of information sure to come and stated, "Alright, I'm in. What do you need?"

He felt himself being patted on the back, and heard his brothers saying they knew they could count on him, but he was watching Hermione, who was stalking towards them. She appeared to be getting into lecture mode.

"What we need," She stated, "is an opinion, at this point." She pulled out a scroll and passed it to him. He began scanning it as she continued speaking.

"This scroll is a transcription of a text, possibly a letter, written by Merlin about his seven prophecies. We know we are the subjects of the seventh prophecy, that has already been fulfilled, setting the others in motion. And that I am the subject of the sixth prophecy. Here," she handed him a paper, "Is a transcription of the seventh prophecy, and notes as to what we believe it's referring to."

She sighed, "Since the seventh is already fulfilled, it's not our priority, but it could be useful in deciphering the others. The scroll details the six remaining prophecies as well, vaguely, but it's more than we have now.

The sixth prophecy, according to its contents, focuses on the Mistress of Life. This would be me, officially, as of yesterday. It speaks of some internal conflict finding resolution. I believe it to be about how I see myself and reconciling that with what the truth of myself is.

It has come to my attention that I am a descendant of Merlin, and Morgana, as well as the Dagworth-Granger family. Presumably that is on one side, but I've found little about my mothers family history as far back as I'd need to go to prove otherwise.

As my identity since learning I was a witch has been as a muggleborn, and I've been treated terribly by those of 'immaculate blood purity', I have made categories in my mind of 'us vs them' coinciding with 'good vs bad'. Since that is not the case in reality, it's been a struggle to find my place in the world. Although, clearly, I know I belong regardless of my internal struggles."

Percy, who had been nodding along with her ramblings, interrupted at that point. "I think that's part of it, but not all." He stated, continuing at her gesture to extrapolate. "The ceremony with the sword in the stone, and the markings makes me think there's more to it. The ceremony itself, as seen in this other scroll, was an ancient marriage bond.

Your key, attached to Regulus', and the matching marks on he and Sirius, makes me think there's s connection there as well. Since Harry's part of the ceremony attached him to Sirius, I'd wager that the change within would be partly the internal reconciliation of your identity, and partly reconciliation of the bond between you and your 'advisor' and his part in that identity."

She made a noise of agreement. "I see. That would certainly make sense." She appeared to be thinking over his statement, before going completely white.

She gasped, then drew her wand and popped away, returning after a moment with a worn trunk. She pressed her left ring finger to the lock, and with a satisfying click, it opened. Closing her eyes, as if preparing for anything that may come from its contents, she lifted the lid.

"This trunk has been in the attic of my parents house, passed down for an untold amount of generations. All of whom have been unable to open it." She said to the group. "It had a lock, with no hole for a key. And no amount of tools could force it open. It was a constant source of amusement and frustration in my family."

She paused, "By the time I was old enough to do magic outside of school, I had forgotten all about it."

"Which side of the family?" Harry questioned.

She bit back a sob, "My mothers." And suddenly she found herself all the closer to the 'them' category, and so much further from the familiar 'us' side of things.

Looking inside, she could do nothing but laugh. She said nothing, though, leaving the others to wonder what in Merlin's name was so funny. Until, Knight that he was, George dared to take a look and exclaimed, "It's empty!"

"Much ado about nothing!" Percy declared, shaking his head and throwing his hands in the air.

Regulus replied to his friend, "The kind of nothing that changes everything all over again." He sighed. "Her mothers family was magical. At least at one point, and probably in hiding due to the pact."

"They were fairly well to do." Harry whispered, having heard of them on a couple of occasions. Turning to Hermione he spoke to her, "You weren't surprised at the manors grandeur, or at any of the estates we visited. I assume you'd been in places like them before?"

She nodded. "They were always talking about the important people we came from, although they never could remember their names. I just assumed they were some minor aristocrats that had left nothing but money and property.

Although I heard talk about them always being so concerned with marrying properly, within the right circles.

They were upset when my mother married my father. Said he wasn't the right sort. That's why they were so distant, but none of them were magical. At least not actively or knowingly so."

"You grew up in the happy version of my childhood," Sirius whispered, "only without the magic."

"Much ado about nothing, indeed." Hermione responded blankly. "I should go to the ministry at some point. I need to try the prophecy again, now that my rose colored glasses are off, and I've activated the key."

She rose to go to bed, but was stopped by the arrival of an unknown patronus. "Auror Potter, you are requested at Malfoy Manor, bring Miss Granger and her Weasley partner. Got some rogue Prinkles, they say." The skunk disappeared, and they sat there with wide eyes, until the group as a whole dissolved into laughter.

————


	18. All’s Well That Ends Well

————

**Chapter Eighteen**

—

_—All's Well That Ends Well—_

————

Harry, Hermione, Regulus and George arrived at Malfoy manor fairly quickly. Regulus only coming because it was his cousins home. That and he didn't trust her husband with Hermione.

Harry, because he was the Auror on official duty, led the way. Hermione and George, as contractors for the ministry —and creators of the object in question— were apprehensive about what they'd see when the doors were open, so they gave him a fairly wide berth.

The large iron doors were flung open just as Harry raised his hand to knock, startling him. Although not nearly as much as Mrs. Malfoy's actions afterwards.

Dressed in a long black gown and black skull cap, with black lace veil covering half her face, Narcissa Malfoy had her hands over her heart. The only color visible on the woman was a red rose, surrounded by a spray of pearls on the front of her hat. She looked like she was going to a funeral!

The Malfoy matriarch took a deep breath, as if she were about to burst, then opened her mouth. "My husband, come quick!" She sang operatically, "His hair all askew, keeps quoting in lyric what he wants to do!" Another breath, and she continued her strange song, "My son, my son! The light of my life! Forgive me, dear Auror, but he's just not quite right!"

Her eyes widened dramatically, seeing the person standing next to her, she gasped, and ran to him. Running her hand across his cheek, she sang, "Cousin? Dear cousin! Art thou back from the dead?! Regulus, Regulus, Regulus" She trilled at an unnaturally high tone of voice, before dropping low and finishing somberly, "Alas! Is it my turn instead?"

"Wow..." George whispered, staring at Hermione in shock. "We are good!" His cheeky comment earned him a slap from the woman next to him.

Harry, finally able to find words after the strange display had ended. "Mrs. Malfoy," he held up a hand as she made to speak again, "Don't speak, save your voice. It's lovely by the way." He chuckled, "We'll see what we can do about getting this whole mess straightened out!" She nodded appreciatively.

"Er, can you point us in the direction of your son and husband?" George asked. Biting his tongue to stop the laughter that was threatening to spill out.

She held up one finger, and pointed left, then two fingers and pointed straight ahead. "They're in two different places." Regulus translated. His cousin nodded, smiling that she was being understood despite her lack of words.

"Mr. Malfoy first." Harry declared, "Draco doesn't sound much different than usual." He heard Mrs. Malfoy huff indignantly behind him, but paid it no mind. They went to the left, as directed, following the hallway until it ended at a crossroads of three doors. Two wooden and one glass.

Questioningly, they turned to his wife, looking for directions. "Lucius" she sang, "is in the con-serv-a-tor-ry!"

"Lucius Malfoy, in the conservatory, with a —" Hermione began, swinging open the glass door. And then she saw him. "—A Mullet!?" She gasped.

Seeing them, the Malfoy patriarchs eyes took on a hopeful expression. He opened his mouth to tell them what happened, "I wanna know what Love is!" He deadpanned, "I want you to show me!" He shook his head in exhasperation.

Regulus goggled at his cousins husband, clueless that everyone else was doing the same. Just what was going on here?

"Didn't quite get that Mr. Malfoy, care to try again?" George asked innocently.

The man with the golden mullet huffed, but complied, "Pour some sugar on me!" He said emphatically, then sighed, "I bless the rains down in Africa..."

"Oh my!" Hermione shook her head, covering her mouth to hide her smile. "And Draco?" She asked. Lucious gestured for them to follow him, saying, "I love rock and roll, put another dime in the jukebox baby." In the haughtiest tone possible.

Regulus was flabbergasted. This was positively the most hilarious thing he had ever seen in his life.

Watching the stoic Malfoy family be reduced to... this... he couldn't believe they had been allowed to sell something that could make people act like this! To further the point, he couldn't believe this family would partake in something so... plebeian.

————

The group made their way back to the entryway and turned into the interior of the house. Three of them had been here before, two of which under less than pleasant circumstances, although you couldn't tell it from their actions.

They reached the door to the very familiar room. The one that had seen the torture of one of the people in their group. Unfortunately, this is where Draco was located at the moment.

Entering with trepidation, the smiles no longer on their faces as they felt the force of the events that had taken place in this very room. Until, that is, they saw it.

It turned around, "Mother! Father!" The tiny teacup with the chip on the rim yelled in an equally small voice. "What are they doing here?"

"As long as you love me, baby" Lucius Malfoy drawled.

"They're here to help." Regulus translated, unable to keep from chuckling at his old acquaintance. Lucius only scowled in response.

The teacup appeared to faint, murmuring "I'll be stuck like this forever!"

Hermione sprung into action. "Snap out of it Ferret! Where is the container of crisps?"

He moaned pitifully, "over there", trying to point with his handle, but only succeeding in knocking himself over.

"Words, Malfoy, use words!" George ordered, "You're the only one able to speak clearly at the moment."

The tea cup rolled its eyes, which was simply adorable, no matter who it was in reality. "Through that door, Theo's got them." He chirped, wobbling unsteadily on the table he was sitting on.

At that moment the door opened and the boy in question walked in, can in hand. "Oy, the Calvary's arrived." He called, sending a salute their way. Before they could stop him, he took a crisp and popped it in his mouth. "I've always thought you were pretty," he said staring at Hermione, the blush staining his cheeks showing that his crisp, a truth apparently, had made him say it.

"Not exactly a game gone rogue, it appears to be working just fine I'd say... the only problem I can find is the game is unfinished. So you're stuck like this until it is...I guess we play then?" George stated unsurely, summoning the can and offering one to a grinning Hermione.

She took one and winked at the still embarrassed Theo, causing Regulus to growl posessively. "Cheers" She said, blowing a kiss at the dark haired man still seething in jealousy, before popping the crisp in her mouth. She watched George, Harry and Regulus do the same.

Harry was rendered silent, making things difficult as he tried, unsuccessfully to procure another crisp. George was forced to sing the very fitting "I'm a little teapot", which he crooned to a seething Malfoy, who was teetering precariously again in his rage.

Regulus was acting like a pirate, having manifested an eye patch, and hat, tottering around as if he had a peg leg and saying things such as "argh, you petty scallywags!" and "ahoy matey." His favorite, apparently was choosing a victim and demanding they "walk the plank" before shooting them with an aguamenti.

Hermione however, felt no different at all.

Checking the canister, she noted there were far to many pieces left. At this rate, she thought, the game would last forever. "We need more people, Siriusly."

"What's up with Granger?" Draco questioned, quirking a delicate porcelain eyebrow.

"I didn't intend to get a brain transplant" She stated, "but then I changed my mind..." Slapping a hand to her head as she figured out what was going on. "I know, I know, I'm very punny."

Sirius and Percy arrived shortly, after receiving Regulus' patronus. They brought Ron and Neville, as well as Ginny, as the message asked for as many "mateys" as they could find. The game should go much faster this way, Hermione thought in relief.

Lucius and Narcissa were refusing to participate, the former getting more angry every time he tried to speak, until finally breaking into actual song. Belting out the entirety of "_If You Wanna Be My Lover_" a la the Spice Girls, in a clipped tenor. The later was just sitting, tight lipped, not wanting to chance embarrassing herself further, but not wanting to risk getting another crisp that was more embarrassing yet.

Theo's latest crisp had him hugging the person next to him, which happened to be Hermione, who was still on her first, and quite enjoying it. Finally Sirius took the last crisp in the bottle.

"Is that...? The last one?" Theo laughed, still hugging Hermione.

"That's Nott, funny!" She quipped, laughing while trying to pry him off of her. "Seriusly, it's Nott!"

"Granger, danger!" George laughed knowing of her temper.

She put the lid on the canister and hoped for the best. But nothing happened. " Could you explain the word 'many' to me? It would mean a lot. By the way—Did you lose one?!" She asked Theo frantically.

"No?" He responded innocently. "I was saving it for later?" Pouting as he withdrew another crisp from his pocket, and handed it to her.

"Don't spell part backwards, it's a trap!" She said, popping it in her mouth. "Tell me that was the real last one!"

She began hopping like a bunny, while in a fencing position, poking the air three times in quick succession, like she was lunging at a nearby foe. This last crisp, she decided was a real dud, but she would make a show of it, because she could. If Hermione Granger could do anything, it was roll with the punches.

And so, on the last short lunge of the pattern, she proclaimed, "Snickers!" in a high pitched, girly, scream, while pretending to put the lid on the can. Succeeding only in breaking down laughing at the looks of relief mixed with disbelief that slowly morphed to disappointment and horror as she watched.

"Seriously? Who would have thought you lot would actually believe that, did any of you even read the instructions?" She asked, with a move akin to an imaginary perry. "Sorry, sorry, ok look...It's not that hard...watch—," this time Hermione held the canister out so everyone could see it, put the lid firmly back on the canister, and looked at her former Slytherin enemy's, who were now sitting dejectedly in front of her. She shook her head, still laughing silently. "Better?" She asked, not expecting much of a reply. They may be grateful on some level, she knew, but they would never show it, much less fall all over themselves to say it outright.

Soon enough, a familiar drawling voice came from considerably higher than it had moments before, "Granger, That was positively anticlimactic!"

"I think that's the nicest thing you've ever said to me, Malfoy!" She chuckled in mock surprise and delight.

He looked incredulous. "You turned me into a teapot, Granger. A TEAPOT!" He ranted, stomping his foot for emphasis.

She shrugged, "Dear Chip, you were actually a tea CUP, when I found you. And for the record, I did not personally turn you into anything. Although, I could if you'd like. I do remember a rather fetching white ferret... ?" At this she raised her eyebrow questioningly, and began humming 'I'm a little teapot' quietly.

Regulus, making a note to ask her about that story later decided to go back home with the twins and Percy, he sensed an end to the amusement relatively quickly anyway. They quietly popped his cousins house as her only child stuttered out an answer.

"No, that's quite alright... m— mm never mind... wait, Chip?" Draco seemed to be quite at a loss due to her her downright friendly demeanor. Or maybe that's just how he was when he was too humiliated to even think how to act like his normal ferrety self. Either way, it was pretty funny, and thus, the ever stoic Hermione Granger giggled, she simply could not help it.

She quickly cleared her throat to cover up the slip, "Mhmm, thought not." She smiled at him saccharinly, "Yes, Chip, you were the sweetest little talking teacup I ever did see! With a chip right out of the rim. I'm not entirely sure if it was because you're a chip off the old block," she gestured to a portrait of his father with his chest puffed out proudly, his walking stick making him look like a gentleman from the olden times, "or because of the gigantic chip on your shoulder.

Regardless, I found it strangely fitting. Especially as it was just over your head, literally... Right then, I think we are done here! That should be the last of them, seeing as we are all back to normal. Although, I'm unsure as to what the lasting effects may be... since I gather you waited a while to ask for help.

I really do find this real world research, while unintended, extremely invaluable in terms of ... oh, sorry, eh— I'm rambling. Anyway, later Chip."

And with that said, she gave him a quick salute as she spun on her heel, disappearing before he had even opened his mouth to utter one extremely aggravated "GRANGERRR!"

———

Hermione reappeared in her dark room, and collapsed exhaustedly into her bed. The revelations and events of the day weighing on her heavily.

It occurred to her, all of the sudden, that she was technically, probably, a muggleborn pureblood, a thought that left her firmly outside of both of her preconceived categories. Which further drove home the point, to her at least, that everyone was the same in the way that they were all uniquely different. Neither group was right, as Hermione recalled the man in Fred and George's orb saying. Because of the simple fact that, in reality, there was only one group.

Moments later, Hermione heard her door open. A stream of light landed on her face, causing her to squint her eyes to see just who dared to disturb her much deserved solitude.

Of course it was Regulus, he had probably felt a disturbance in the force... or rather the wards, and decided to come and check on her. Harry must have pointed him in the right direction.

They both became aware of it at the same moment. The thing that was not supposed to be there, but undoubtedly was nonetheless.

On her bedside table, just above the ominously open chest from her parents attic, the one that she knew she had closed quite securely, laid a yellowed scroll tied with a deep purple ribbon. She reached out a hand, to pick it up. Hesitantly undoing the ribbon before carefully unrolling the aged paper. Once opened, it's contents read, simply:

"Once you pop, the fun don't stop.

—Merlin"

"Oh no!" Hermione gasped, as Regulus lunged to her side, firmly grasping her hand, and attempting to pry the scroll from it, "Not agai—"

And the darkened room was empty once more.

————


	19. Here We Go Again

_

**Chapter Nineteen**

**—**

_—Here We Go Again—_

_

It never got less weird, she mused, the feeling of being separated from your own body. The thought that while you were just along for the ride, somewhere, someone was just going about their day completely normally, was similarly strange. Yet, here she was, surrounded by darkness, floating along as if she hadn't a care in the world.

Regulus had gone quiet sometime after he had performed a whirlwind monologue about touching strange objects that appear of their own accord, and descending on into poor decision making skills, before finally giving up. He had been unimpressed with her actions, to say the least.

She had to say that as much as she missed his voice breaking up the monotony of the all encompassing nothingness surrounding them, she didn't much care for that particular subject matter at the moment. Not that she expected him to be happy about their current predicament, of course. She didn't. She was rather irritated herself at this current turn of events. Truly.

She briefly wondered where they were headed. Although they say curiosity killed the cat, so she didn't ponder upon it for too long. Merlin forbid she tempt fate like that.

However, what she did know was that Merlin himself knew of her Prinkles, which was kind of cool, she supposed. Embarrassing, yes— very much so, but still awesome by principle. She also knew that the scroll had been signed in his hand, and that it was the most likely candidate for her current state of existence.

If Merlin was alive, however, he would be millennia's old. She wasn't about to discount such a possibility, but it was certainly unlikely. Hermione sighed, she really should have read that scroll about Merlin's resting place.

With that that final thought, the endless darkness began to recede. They landed with a thud on what felt to be an aged wooden floor.

It kind of looked like the inside of the chest Hermione had brought from her parents attic, in Regulus' opinion. Not that he was in the mood for sharing at the moment.

All in all, the space was an empty, darkened square, and they appeared to be alone in it. He watched as the girl before him furrowed her brows, puzzled.

"So what?" She groaned, "Now we're stuck in a box? Perfect!"

Hermione paced from one side to the other, slowly moving to the side each time, leaving no path untrodden and no surface unexplored. Muttering all the while, she cast a spell to conjure a jar of bluebell flames for each corner, then began again. There were patterns in the wood grain, she noted. It could be nothing, but then again, it could be something too.

They appeared to be runes, but she hadn't seen anything like them before. While she had taken ancient runes in school, she doubted the class had been very inclusive. Which was a pity, because it would have been helpful to have at least heard of other types of runes in a situation like this.

While Hermione was busy exploring, Regulus had been busy trying to escape. Unfortunately he hadn't had much success either, as evidenced by his continued presence. Apparition had simply not worked, his patronus just appeared and looked at him, a blasting hex— that one had hurt!

"Stupid chest!" He yelled, breaking his silence suddenly.

He heard a dry chuckle from behind him, "Oh, look who finally decided to join the party." Hermione stated sarcastically. "In all seriousness though...Be mad at me later, I need your help. You're smart, right? Are these..." She gestured to the wall as he stomped over to where she was standing, "are they runes? I don't recognize them."

Sure enough, in a swirling pattern covering the whole surface of the space, there were thousands of tiny ancient and obscure runes. Regulus swore.

He knew these runes, not very well mind you, since they hadn't been used in thousands of years, but his father had imparted some knowledge years ago. As part of his summer "learning" experience.

"This is going to take some time." He whispered, "I need paper, then I'll show you the basics of what I know."

And so, the two began their work. Heads close together in a meeting of minds. Their 'minor' disagreement all but forgotten in the quest for freedom.

_

_Ministry of Magic, Hall of Prophecies_

"If a tree falls in the forest, and nobody's around to hear it, does it make a sound?" A male unspeakable asked his female counterpart. Since the Seventh Prophecy of Merlin had been fulfilled, they had added additional people to the rotation, and thus the solitary unspeakable was no longer alone during his overnight shift.

Rolling her eyes, the female stood and stretched. "No, idiot, it doesn't make a sound... if no one is around to see it, it simply does not exist."

He had not thought of this possibility, but it did seem a bit unlikely. "What? Like when you banish things without specifying a place? I'm sure they go somewhere, just like I'm sure trees don't magically disappear just because no one is looking at them."

"How would you know?" She challenged with a smirk.

He raised an eyebrow in return, "How would you?"

She laughed, "Fair enough, I suppose. I'll tell you what..." the woman paused, thinking of how to word what she was about to say. "When you find the place holding all the banished things, you let me know and I'll praise you for being right.

Scoffing, the guy stood up and walked out of the room, yelling over his shoulder that he was going to the loo. Not that he really needed to tell her all the details.

He had been gone no more than a minute when the room started vibrating, and the remaining unspeakable jumped to her feet. Suddenly alert, she scanned the rows of orbs, hoping that none fell in this strange scenario. From the far corner of the room, she heard a commotion. Quickly, she sprinted away from the door, and towards the source of the noise.

What she saw when she arrived, was beyond words. An invisible force was carrying all seven of Merlin's first prophecies, moving as if they were being juggled. Around and around they went, spinning faster and faster. The unspeakable tried to keep up, but her head was starting to spin too, so she was finding the task quite difficult.

She knew there was a problem when there was a muffled 'pop', similar to the noise of an apparition. She counted aloud, "one- two- three... darn it," but lost count when the spinning distracted her. Trying again and again, she finally got to five, before becoming so dizzy she simply tipped over.

The other unspeakable was calling for her from the doorway, trying to see where she had gone. By the time he made his way back to the very last shelf, at the very back of the very big room, the very strange vibration had ceased. His female partner was clambering to her feet, still a bit unsteady, when he noticed something startling. "What happened to the sixth prophecy?" He asked, searching the floor around their pedestals, in case it had simply fallen.

The woman paled. "It was... I was... it just..." She looked, and she grew paler yet. "It's gone!?" She gasped, then, for the second time that night, she found herself on the floor.

"Girls!" He sighed, exasperatedly, while conjuring his patronus. "Minister, the sixth prophecy has disappeared." He intoned, "Send Aurors to the hall! I repeat, the sixth prophecy has disappeared."

_

_Grimmauld Place_

The adventure at Malfoy manner had seemed to cheer everyone up quite nicely. Neville and Ron, Ginny and Percy too, had been loathe to leave, to simply go back to their mundane lives. Harry, ever astute, had quickly thought of a solution: poker night!

Sirius had come up with the drinks, the twins had transfigured the poker chips, Ginny had recalled where her mom had hidden the cards. Neville and Percy were in charge of the tables, and figuring out the actual rules, respectively. They had waited on Regulus to return from checking on Hermione, but when they decided he was taking to long, they called in a substitute.

This was how the Minister of Magic, Kingsley Shacklebolt had come to be sitting at a table, well on his way to being sloshed, with a pile of plastic poker chips before him, when the patronus arrived proclaiming "...the sixth prophecy has disappeared." Firewhisky had promptly sprayed from his mouth, and in his hurry to stand he had overturned the table, but no one was really worried at it at that moment in time. Many things were happening at once after that unexpected message.

Sirius, who had been discussing rejoining the Auror Corps when the patronus had manifested, rushed over to Kingsley to make a plan. They were joined shortly by Neville and Ron.

Ginny had moved to sit on a couch, safely out of the way, until someone filled her in on what was going on.

Percy and the twins ran up the stairs, following Harry, who ran passed the library, while the trio of redheads went into it to retrieve any scrolls that could be useful.

Harry joined them a moment later, checking all the hiding spots in the library in a panic. "Hermione's gone!" He exclaimed tensely, "Regulus too." George, having been with Harry when he found most of the unknown areas of the house, helped him look, but neither of them could find even the smallest trace.

"Do you think they're in Avalon?" George asked, hopefully. They'd checked everywhere in the house by this point, that was really the only other option before they resigned themselves to the other alternative.

The dark haired man called for Kreacher, reluctantly, after their most recent misunderstanding. When he appeared, Harry didn't waste any time with pleasantries, "Hermione and Regulus are missing. Are they in Avalon?"

The formerly disgruntled elf shook his head negatively, eyes wide with worry. "They haven't been there since they left, said they wanted to focus on the prophecy. I hope they're alright!" He rushed out.

George was beginning to get a bad feeling about the whole situation. "Can you find them?" He asked urgently, not wanting to think of the implications of both the prophecy, and its subject disappearing so closely together.

The elf closed his eyes, then appeared to be frustrated. "Strange," He muttered. "I can sense them... but it's like I can't get there? I've never experienced anything like it." He shook his head, and shrugged, "I'll go inform Daisy, maybe she has an idea of what's going on." He offered.

Before he was able to leave, Harry stopped him as he remembered there was something the elf didn't know yet, "And Kreacher, the prophecy is gone too. Hers."

Nodding, he popped off. This couldn't be good.

They rejoined Fred and Percy, and as a group went down to figure out what the plan was, alerting the group to this new development as soon as they arrived.

Ginny, feeling left out, but wanting to be useful, offered to stay and wait for Hermione if she returned while they were investigating at the ministry. The rest of them downed sober up potions and filed through the floo, eager to find some answers.

_

Regulus and Hermione had made some progress, in their place of confinement. But not enough, in their opinion.

Hermione sat up from her hunched over position on the floor, where she had been examining a particularly tricky set of runes. With a gasp she began rummaging in her pocket, before producing an item that made both of them smile.

"The S.A.S!" Regulus breathed, "You're brilliant!"

"And scary," she added, smiling for a moment before sobering again, "but also stupid. Sorry for getting us stuck in this stupid box!" Hermione smacked the wall closest to her for emphasis.

Regulus ran a hand through his hair, sighing, "No, I'm sorry. I was an idiot— again. I would have done the same thing, honestly. It's just been a long couple of weeks, you know? One of us had to snap at some point... I guess. Unfortunately it was me." He reached out, throwing an arm around her, and pulling her into a side hug, "So, what are we going to say to our would be rescuers?"

She hmm'd, biting her lip. "Good question...Help, we are stuck in a box isn't very much to go by... and then there's the possibility that we are indeed inside of the magic resistant chest." She laid her head on his shoulder, sighing in frustration of their current predicament, "The one that couldn't be opened by magic or force... and the key is on my finger while we are inside, unable to reach the lock."

He rested his head on hers. "I was right, you know. Things will never be boring with you lot around. You have a way of finding yourself in the most interesting of problems."

"Mhmm." Hermione agreed, "I sure do. As much as it pains me to admit it... what about the scroll detailing Merlin's resting place? The one on my table was signed by Merlin, so would that be a good place to start?"

Regulus attempted to summon the scroll, to no avail. "Put it in the message, I guess. That and the belief that we are inside the chest. It would be a good starting point, at least." He mumbled, "I've got a S.A.S. too, so we can add more later if we need to."

She did so, watching in relief as the product did exactly what it was designed to do, disappeared from sight. "And now we get back to work." She asserted, looking at the set of runes again from another angle.

"Regulus..." She said slowly, "they're mirrored! Everything is in reverse!" With this revelation they dove back in with a renewed vigor, moving faster than they had before.

"I think the fact that they're mirrored may be a clue in itself," Regulus theorized while later.

They had decoded each line meticulously. Separately, they made perfect sense. Together, however, not so much. "The runes were mirrored," she thought out loud, "so what if the lines are mirrored to? Figure out the opposite of every line once it's decoded, I guess."

They ended up with a series of riddles, that, when taken as their opposites, could be described by a single word each. On and on they decoded, simplified and repeated until the were left with three words. Leave, there, and me. "Come here you?" Regulus laughed at the opposite of the sentence.

"Enter?" Hermione guessed. This one was probably going to be trickier than they thought.

As she spoke the room was bathed in glowing gold light. Something was happening, or starting rather.

"The opposite of enter is exit..." Regulus tried, but nothing happened.

Hermione got that thinking look again, while mumbling and pacing. "We entered by force, so in this situation maybe freedom would be a better word!" She laughed, the lights flashed twice.

"Two words?" Regulus guessed.

Hermione shrugged, taking a wild guess. "I'm free?"

_

Sitting on the couch, alone, in the dreary house that was Grimmauld Place was incredibly boring, Ginny thought for the hundredth time. It had been maybe fifteen minutes since everyone had gone through the floo and she had few things to entertain herself with. One could only reread old copies of witch weekly so many times, after all.

With a sigh she flipped the page and began reading the next article, '101 ways to charm a wizard'. "How original." Two whole sentences and an eternity later, the floo flared to life and four wizards stormed by her with not a single word.

"It's coming from her room!" One of her twin brothers announced, leading the pack. Shrugging, she tossed the magazine over her shoulder and stood to chase after them.

She caught up with them as they were rounding the corner past the library upstairs, and, still running, watched in shock as they kept going despite the fact they were headed straight for a wall. And then they were gone.

Hoping the result would be the same for her, Ginny followed. Thankfully, it was. That wasn't the end of the surprises though. She stared wide eyed all around her, as she simultaneously fought to catch up to the group of boys in front of her. At least someone around here had some taste, she thought.

Finally, they reached their destination, and Ginny sat to catch her breath on the very comfy bed in what she assumed was Hermione's room. "What's going on?" She panted, watching as Sirius lifted the worn trunk and placed it ever so gently on the bed.

"Don't worry, we're going to get you out of there!" He called. Honestly, the man looked crazier at that moment than he ever had before.

Seeing his sisters questioning look, Fred took pity on her, "Hermione and Regulus are trapped. They think they're inside this box here..."

"They sent a message with the S.A.S. saying a scroll appeared on her bedside table, she saw it, touched it." George continued, rapidly.

Then Fred took back up. "Regulus figured out what was happening. He lunged. They ended up in a box, unable to magic out anyway they tried."

She nodded, disbelievingly. "Riiight... do you guys just like watching people's heads bounce back and forth?" She wondered out loud, only to be waved off.

They all took turns, pressing their left ring finger to the lock. Nothing. Defeated, they joined Ginny in sitting down on the bed.

"What now?" She whispered, breaking the silence.

Harry took her hand, squeezing it comfortingly, "Now we wait."

_

In a room full of dusty, old tomes, sat Percy Weasley. Happily perusing the pile of scrolls in front of him. Everything he read was interesting, of course, to a bibliophile like him, but not a bit of it was helpful in this situation. Until he reached the last paragraph, describing a trunk that sounded a lot like the less worn version of the one Hermione had brought around earlier.

Reading faster, full of anticipation, he learned that Merlin had devised this trunk to store all his worldly goods, and memorabilia, as well as to function as a key to his resting place. A place, the scroll said, where he would wait safe from the effects of time, until he was called forth again.

"That's it!" Percy shouted, grinning broadly. He needed to tell the others immediately. But how? He wondered.

Unfortunately, the former Head Boy had never been happy enough to cast a corporeal patronus, but the scene he was picturing just now, might do the trick. In his opinion it was worth a shot.

Focusing on the image in his mind, where he was the one to provide the clue that rescued his friends, and his brothers and sister were so very proud of him, he called out the spell. To his disbelief and pleasure, a tiny, glowing goat with huge, coiled horns, flew out of the tip of his wand.

"Go to Harry," he instructed, "Tell him they're in the chest! I'll meet you at Headquarters." Gathering all the scrolls he had brought with him, he left the ministry, intent on saving the day.

_


	20. The 7 Prohecies of Merlin: ii Prophecy 6

**Chapter Twenty**

_

The Seven Prophecies of Merlin 

-Part II-

_The 6th Prophecy_

_

It was like the complete opposite of being surrounded by darkness, Hermione marveled, all she could see was gold. Unlike the feeling of floating, bodiless, she still maintained her sense of self.

As she felt fingers entwine with her own, she knew Regulus was experiencing the same thing. "Are we going somewhere?" He wondered aloud.

"I have no idea," she breathed, but she didn't think they were. It was almost as if she could feel the room moving, as opposed to herself. "Hey Regulus?"

"Hmm?" He murmured.

"Thank you. You know, for trying to save me from all of this." He had willingly reached out for her, with no concern for his own safety and well-being after all. "And for helping me figure all this out."

"What kind of a knight would I be if I didn't?" He joked, "Besides that, I wanted to. I have come to care about your well being and happiness. Just a little." She could picture his self satisfied smirk now.

"Aww! He likes me, he really really likes me!" She faux simpered.

"Of course, m'lady." He laughed, "And yes, yes he does.— uh, Hermione, what's that sound?"

A kind of half whistle half whooshing noise echoed in the space. It was getting closer, judging by the steadily increasing noise. Just when it sounded like it was about to smash into them, whatever it was, it stopped, and something hard fell on Regulus' foot. "Ouch!" He whined, "Why'd you do that?"

"Do what?!" She asked, sounding throughly confused.

He scoffed, "You stomped on my foot!"

"I can if you'd like, Mr. Attitude." She responded, "But I haven't moved since that noise started... I wonder..." Hermione lowered herself to the ground, feeling for his feet. When she found them, she began to search for whatever had landed on his foot. It had to be nearby.

"Aha!" She cried, feeling something round on the floor. "It feels like a ball" she explained to the man, reaching out to grasp it with both hands. Suddenly, she gasped and went silent.

Regulus dove to the floor, where she had been seconds before. Yelling out, "Hermione?!" as he shuffled around on his hands and knees. But she was nowhere to be found.

_

"What?!" Hermione gasped, able to see her surroundings again, only to be confronted with the same scene from Merlin's seventh prophecy.

Speaking of Merlin, he was there, standing at a window she had not noticed before, staring outward, at what she had no idea.

"My apologies for the journey" he said abruptly, turning to look at the spot she was standing. "I needed you to go through certain... trials, before coming to this point."

He began pacing. "These prophecies are not exactly 'normal' I suppose. Normally, you touch, you see, you know. But this," he paused, "this is not a normal situation. It's delicate, the process of bringing your family back from virtual extinction. Everything has to be just so."

Merlin looked saddened for a moment. "I am truly sorry for the pain that you may have been caused because of any of this. There simply was no other way. The threat to our world and way of life, you see, was not just man, it was man and wizard alike. We devolved into this civilization where certain people are better than other people for the silliest of reasons, and all others were simply cannon fodder.

In implementing the great pact, generations upon generations of our people have been immersed in the culture and lifestyle of those that we never understood. Not only that, but since these people upheld the same traditions as those that stayed in the wizarding world, they are just as "pure", yet completely different.

It is my greatest hope that the shock of this revelation, will serve to point out that we are not split into two sides. We are simply one people. Each one of whom is different, a part of one whole.

You my dear, are special in the fact that your family has served as my protectors for thousands of years. Unknowingly, yet unerringly so. Your Mothers side held my physical protections, your fathers held my blood, my legacy. It is fitting that you are the one to bring the family back.

But I digress... I—" A blank look took over the face of the greatest wizard that ever lived. His voice changed, taking on the typical tone found in prophecies, speaking as if he were far away,

"_Mistress of life_

_Through darkness_

_And through light_

_You have traveled_

_So far and so near_

_Lady le Fay_

_Far from Avalon's way,_

_You've lost, found, been unraveled_

_And faced all of these without fear_

_You seek the last piece_

_The last part_

_The last claim_

_Both of heart_

_And of place_

_And of name_

_In my trunk you will find_

_Your last peace of mind_

_The last claim of name_

_And of place_

_But make no mistake_

_The last piece of your heart_

_Will be given_

_without needing to take._"

Merlin shook, as if coming out of a trance. "I've always hated visions," he admitted, chuckling. And suddenly she found herself thrown from the orb.

_

The only thing worse than being in a small space without the ability to see, Regulus decided, was being in that situation alone. It was like total sensory deprivation... well, almost. He could feel, and hear himself breathing, but it was close enough to drive him to madness if it lasted much longer.

When the golden glow began to fade, it was all he could do to remain standing upright. The space hadn't been as small as they were led to believe. It also hadn't been nearly as empty as they thought! He suspected that Hermione would return soon, since the glow was gone. Until then he would just have to amuse himself looking through all the piles of junk that suddenly surrounded him.

To be fair, the space hadn't changed completely, it was still a box, although now a much larger one. And the stuff wasn't exactly junk. Eh, most of it, at least. The rock he had just stubbed his toe on was definitely junk, but the chest of jewelry was definitely not.

There were portraits too, so he wasn't alone to converse solely with himself anymore. Unfortunately he didn't know any of them, nor did they know him, so the conversation would likely be awkward.

Regulus didn't have time to dwell on that fact though, as the woman he had been waiting for fell, quite literally, at his feet. Without hesitating, he helped her up, and wrapped her in a hug. He had been worried. Hermione had simply smiled, pressed a kiss to his cheek, then ducked out from under his arms, searching for something.

"Can I help you find something?" He asked, wondering what was going on.

She shook her head, "Paper! I need paper." Sorting through the closest pile of stuff, quickly, she was not successful in her quest, until she paused and placed her hand on her forehead, muttering "I'm a witch," before summoning a sheaf of parchment, and pulling some sort of apparently muggle writing instrument from her pocket.

Regulus watched this scene with mild amusement. Then stood, reading over her shoulder as she wrote. Eyebrows raising higher and higher as she continued.

"The prophecy?" He questioned when she was finished. "The thing that smashed my foot was the bloody crystal ball, supposedly under tightened security, in the ministry?!" She nodded. "Merlin!" He breathed.

"Merlin, who is alive from what I gathered." Hermione added. "And who left me surprises somewhere in all this... stuff"

She poked at a pile of what appeared to be dirty laundry. "I surely hope it's not in there. This 'quest' is bad enough without some grown mans dirty laundry getting involved. And to top that off my part in the prophecy... is a joke!" She raged, "Pretty much I change my opinion of myself, get titles and property, and am rewarded with what sounds to be unrequited love! Honestly, I'm going to sleep for a year when I get out of here."

"Can I join?" He asked suggestively, wiggling his eyebrows, and succeeding in his intended task of making her laugh.

She smacked him playfully on the chest. "Only if you promise not to do that again!"

"I know, it's just too much to handle. Isn't it?" Regulus mocked with a smirk. "Still sexually frustrated, little bookworm?" He taunted.

She rolled her eyes, still looking in vain through random piles. "Not anymore." Hermione answered haughtily, as she thumbed through a rack of women's dresses. Flinging a scarf around her neck, and selecting a ridiculous, gauzy gold gown, she turned to him and winked.

This reaction caused him to widen his eyes. Which in turn caused her to smirk., shrugging into the gown. "You don't remember last night, dear?! — or was that somebody else?"

He growled in response. "Hermione."

She stuck her tongue out at him, planting a diamond and ruby encrusted tiara, lopsidedly on the top of her head. Walking over to the dark haired man, she placed a much more masculine, matching crown atop his head. Bending down and whispering in his ear, "Kidding, love, relax."

"Get me out of here, before I do something we both won't regret." He threatened, staring directly into her eyes while pulling her into his lap.

Still laughing, Hermione raised an eyebrow, "Promises, promises. —But ok, if you insist on leaving... I believe the enchantments have been lifted on the trunk. Go ahead and try." Shockingly, she realized she didn't really want him to.

By his quickly masked pout, he didn't want to either. But he was too much of a gentleman to make good on his threat in this manner, at least she believed that to be true. "You'll be the death of me yet, witch." He chuckled, making no move to go anywhere.

Regulus looked thoughtful for a moment, before speaking again, "Honestly... Nothing I saw in the prophecy, from what you wrote at least. Made me think that your love would be unrequited, as you put it." At her doubtful stare he continued, "Seriously, I mean, a guy would have to be an idiot not to love you if you gave him such a treasure as your heart."

"You think?" She whispered.

He smiled softly, eyes boring into her with meaning, "I know so."

Hermione chuckled, "Idiot."

Regulus looked affronted. "I am many things," he admitted, "but an idiot is not one of them."

"So if I gave you my heart...?" She trailed off, holding her breath.

The dark haired man ran a hand through his hair, looking away for a moment. Taking a deep breath, he steeled himself for the confession he was about to make. "If you gave me your heart," he said, voice raw with emotion, "I would guard it. Quite jealously. I'm just not sure how to give you my heart in return. I suppose it would be a learning experience, as I've never done it before."

She nodded. "Take me home, Regulus. We have year long a nap to take."

"Yes Mistress." He joked, slinging an arm around her waist and drawing his wand.

_

Percy had arrived via floo shortly after he sent the patronus, only to find the place oddly quiet. Just as he began to think nobody was coming, or worse, his patronus was defective, a panting George ran into the room.

"This house is too big!" He complained, trying to catch his breath. "Follow me." And the two brothers took off back the way he had come, at a much slower pace.

In short order they arrived back in Hermione's room, where everyone was staring at the chest glumly. Percy rubbed his hands in anticipation. "Ok, this can't be so hard, right?" He psyched himself up, "The key is in the lock already so... maybe..." he cast an _alohamora_. Nothing.

Ginny rolled her eyes. "Tried that one." She explained impatiently, shrugging Harry's arm off of herself, "I'm going home to sleep like a normal person. Let me know if you need anything."

Harry shook his head, he hadn't seen his girlfriend properly in what felt like forever. "Take my room, I could use a nap too. I'm no good to anyone if I'm about to fall over." He offered, making a plan to take only a short break. "That way we are close by. Just in case." He explained.

Percy waved them off, as George and Fred made themselves more comfortable on Hermione's bed, not paying the departing duo any mind. Sirius was too busy staring at the trunk as if willing it to open, mumbling, "I wonder..." and casting random spells and charms at it.

"Revelio" Percy cast hopefully. While it didn't open, a series of dials and levers appeared. "Well, that's a good start." He murmured to himself, bending to examine them.

Sirius pouted, "I should have thought of that..." but perked up when the parts started turning of their own accord. "Uh, Percy? It's already solving itself...I think?"

The red headed man gasped, watching for a moment before coming to the same conclusion. "I think you're right!" He looked over at his brothers, who were looking fairly heavy lidded, and tried to rouse them, with no success.

The levers and dials had aligned themselves, in the meantime. Concluding with a final _click_, drawing the rapt attention of both men. They looked at each other.

"What now?" Sirius breathed. Almost afraid to do anything further, lest he risk getting his brother and friend stuck in the blasted box forever.

Holding his breath, Percy reached out with quivering hands. Pausing just over the lid, before resolutely placing his palms upon it. "Please work, please work." He chanted, beginning to grasp the lid and pull upwards.

And slowly, but surely, it moved. "It's heavier than I thought it would be," the man remarked, straining at the resistance, "like something is trying to keep it shut, from the inside!". He didn't give up though, pulling and pulling some more, inch by inch until Sirius joined in. They struggled in silence for what felt like forever, and then, with a sudden 'pop', the suction like force released and the lid swung open, spraying its contents throughout the room.

"We're awake, we're awake!" Fred yelled, hitting George with a pillow while bolting upright and off the bed.

Simultaneously, a feminine coughing fit sounded from underneath a pile of clothing. And it began to move. "Ughhhh!" A male voice moaned, "I'm showering for a month, before we sleep for a year! Merlin's dirty underclothes!"

"Agreed!" The female groaned, successfully emerging from the pile at large, a pair of what appeared to be dusty underwear atop her head.

"Hermoine!" The twins yelled, rushing to assist her.

The man appeared next, draped in some sort of a toga that appeared to be covered in crusty jam. "Regulus!" Sirius yelled, gathering his brother in a brusque man hug, casting a _scourgify_ on him, toga and all.

"We did it!" Percy yelled, mentally giving himself a pat on the back, both for saving the day and sharing the credit.

Regulus cocked an eyebrow at his friend? "Did what?" He asked in confusion.

Percy looked momentarily shocked, before stuttering, "We— uh, Sirius and I— we opened the trunk?"

Sudden understanding flooded through the younger Black sibling, and he quickly made the decision to let the other man have his moment, "Ah, that was you?" He chuckled, patting his brother on the back, before repeating the action with his friend. "Thanks mates! We may never have gotten out of that dusty old chest without your intervention."

Hermione looked puzzled for a moment, until he winked at her, and understanding bloomed in her eyes. He was a good man, she thought with a smile.

Regulus had grabbed her and apparated them from the trunk, probably at the same time that Sirius and Percy had tried to open it. Judging by their story about the suction, and it's sudden release, the timing would add up. That would explain how they ended up covered in Merlin's dirty undergarments when neither of them had been touching them before.

"Thank you Percy!" Hermione gushed, providing the boy with his, apparently much needed, ego boost. He smiled, preening, especially as his brothers congratulated him on his heroics as well.

As Regulus came and lead her to the bathroom, and away from the suddenly boisterous crowd, she whispered a nearly silent, "Thank you, that was very kind, what you did for Percy.," in his ear, and pressed a feather light kiss to his cheek. He tried to be decent, he really did, letting go of her hand and pushing her gently into the bathroom.

She wasn't having it though. When he turned to go to the other one, Regulus felt a tug on the toga he had forgot to remove, and suddenly, he found himself fully dressed, in a bathtub with Hermione Granger.

"You, Mister Black, have a bigger heart than you think." She stated, "And it would appear you know how to use it just fine. Despite your many doubts. I think the problem is up here." Hermione tapped his forehead, "You think way too much. I should know... that's my problem."

He pulled her to him. Kissing her soundly. "You talk way too much." He gasped in between kisses, effectively ending that problem. For now, at least.

_


	21. When Life Gives You Lemons

—————

**Chapter Twenty-One**

—

_When Life Gives You Lemons_

—————

(A/N- Skip this chapter if you prefer life without lemonade... or should I say mild, mostly tasteful lemons?)

—————

Wand in hand, she banished the toga back to whence it came, then sent his clothes to the counter. As she had wandlessly filled the tub with bubbling potions while he had been too gobsmacked at her actions to notice anything, his decency, and by extension her own, was somewhat preserved.

She sank down into the bubbles, relishing the heat, and waited for him to come back to his senses. "5...4...3..." She whispered under her breath, "Two..." his eyes widened minutely, "one".

And suddenly Regulus Black was a blur in motion. "You're playing with fire witch," he growled, placing his hands on her bare shoulders.

"I know," she whispered, looking at him from underneath her lashes.

His breathing was heavy against her cheek. "You're going to get burned." Regulus warned, turning her around roughly, and wetting her hair. Massaging a bubbling pink potion into her scalp.

"I may." She whispered again, a bit louder but a lot more steadily.

"I don't have anything to offer you." He admitted, voice rough with emotion. Hands moving down to her neck, continuing his ministrations.

"I don't care." Hermione stated stubbornly, turning to look him in the eyes. "Regulus, I don't need anything. But I'm done lying to myself. I want you." She worried her bottom lip, while waiting for his answer.

His eyes were like molten silver, so different from their normal bluish hue, so much more... intense. Tired of waiting for him to process her words, and in part delaying the inevitable, Hermione spun in the water. She came to a halt behind him, to repay the favor he had done her.

He gasped, as her fingers found purchase in his hair. Kneading, and massaging his scalp, running nimble finger through his locks, while smirking at his attempts to hide his gasps and moans of pleasure.

"Hermione." He warned, as she reached his neck and began smoothing out knots between it and his shoulders. Her nails scraping softly with every pass.

"Regulus," she mocked, digging her nails in a bit harder and drawing another muffled moan out of the man before her.

She held her body up against his, as she reached around him to soap his chest, ever so innocently. He sucked in a breath, loudly.

"I... you don't have to do this?" He stated half heartedly. Trying to give her an out, but sounding confused instead.

Kneeding the tense muscles in his back, she agreed, "I don't."

"I just..." He began, breaking off in a moan as her hands moved lower in the water, "I've never..." another moan as she wrapped her arms around him once more, soaping his abdomen.

She relished the feeling of the supple hardness beneath her hands. The genes in this family were phenomenal, she thought, if the men could eat like she'd seen them do, and effortlessly maintain the bodies they had.

Hermione grabbed his shoulders, nudging him to turn around so she could see his face when she told him what she was about to say. He complied without further prompting, but was reluctant to look her in the eyes. "Regulus," She all but whispered, placing a hand above his heart. He looked, briefly, still ashamed. "Regulus!" She said, louder this time, "Look at me, fool!"

He did, anger simmering dangerously beneath the pools of molten silver. He didn't appreciate the name calling, apparently. "I haven't either." She admitted, and the anger instantly abated.

"And you...you...?" He stuttered, "Me?"

His sudden lack of eloquence caused her to chuckle. "And I I you." She nodded, sticking out her tongue.

Suddenly, he pulled her close. Claiming her mouth with abandon. "Mine?" He questioned, between kisses. Paying no mind to their nakedness, he was already in heaven.

"Yes," she gasped in reply. "Yours."

His hand was tracing little circles on the delicate flesh of her lower back, causing goosebumps to emerge across her body, while the other was wrapped in her hair. Her own hands were busy on his back, trying to find somewhere to cling to, only succeeding in leaving red marks on his pale skin.

They broke apart, breathing heavily, Regulus trailing kisses down her face, her neck, her chest, and back up to pepper her mouth with attention as she tried to remember how breathing was supposed to work again.

Was is it in then out, or out then in? Did it really matter that much? She wondered dizzily.

She stopped thinking all together, as he pulled her flush with his own body once again. She felt his hardness against her, tantalizingly close to somewhere that had never been touched by another before. The realization of this fact sent tingles cascading through her body.

Testing the waters, so to speak, she moved against him, experimentally, grabbing his hair and drawing his mouth down to hers once more, causing a ragged groan to fall from his lips.

"Hermione" He growled, as she shifted again. His body was reacting out of pure instinct now. Inching closer and closer to places he'd never been. His hands grasped her hips, roughly. As he pulled her impossibly close to himself.

"Hermione, Hermione, Hermione," he chuckled, releasing her momentarily to look into her eyes. "You beautiful, wonderful, amazing witch. You will be the death of me, I swear it."

"Pity." She replied, fingers tracing the lines of Regulus' chest, inching lower and lower. Smiling wantonly, she added, "I was enjoying myself immensely. I'd appreciate if you could die later, at least."

"Yes, Mistress." He drawled back, hands once again on her hips, this time lifting her up giving her no choice but to instinctively wrap her arms around his shoulders, and her legs around his waist. "Kiss me?" He requested innocently, knowing full well what she was feeling press against a certain part of her body. He could see her eyes glazing over as she processed the feelings assaulting her.

Dropping her head slightly, Hermione complied without complaint. A new kind of excitement rushing through her, sending heat straight to her stomach. He was right there, she noticed, she felt him every time she shifted, slowly growing closer and closer to the final destination.

Feeling bold, she kissed him a little deeper, pressing herself into his stomach and feeling a jolt of mild pleasure in return. She felt him twitch a little in response, and moaned, causing him to unintentionally lower her against him.

She gasped as she felt the minor invasion, hearing him echo her, his lips against her shoulder. "Hermione?" He questioned, breathlessly, pulling back to search her face for signs of distress. Ever the gentleman, seeking permission all the way.

She smiled slightly, unable to form comprehendible words, nodding, as she leveraged her body to do the hard part for him, leaving him unable to blame himself for hurting her later. Biting his shoulder to muffle her cry, she rocked against him once again, feeling him slide deeper into her, once the barrier that was her innocence was no more.

Fully seated, he held her against him with one hand, drawing her face up to look at him with the other. "Thank you." He murmured, kissing her gently. No other words were needed as they explored each others mouths once more.

Hermione felt butterflies, she swore, as the kisses grew heated and he began moving, acting on instinct once again, the noises she was making unknowingly, spurring him on.

She felt as if she were high above the clouds, floating on the air. The pressure building within her, like thousands of butterflies now, multiplying by the second.

"Mine?" He asked again, suddenly unsure if the answer was the same. He didn't know why, but he wanted this girl to claim him. Then, now, and always.

"Yours!" She cried, as he bucked against her, "Regulus!" The butterflies burst from her with force, leaving her heaving and gasping for air as she felt a him flutter inside her, with one final thrust.

He kissed her feverishly, murmuring her name and whispering her praises as they came down from their shared high. Carrying her from the bath, still joined, he perched her gently on the countertop, rubbing scented oils into her damp skin.

She reciprocated gingerly, fascinated at the view before her. Hesitatingly, she dropped her hands lower, and lower, touching him in places she'd never explored before, and watching the reactions pass across his face.

"I want to see you move" she admited quietly, blushing. Amazed they were still attached as they were. She'd heard, mainly from Ginny, that this was not common after completion.

He obliged, slowly, also entranced as they watched themselves. "It's beautiful." She whispered.

"You're beautiful," he corrected, staring at her face.

She was about to say something, most likely to deny her own beauty, as she'd never seen herself that way. However, a giggle, followed by a splash, stopped her. Bringing their romantic moment to a screeching halt.

Hurriedly, Regulus wrapped her in a towel, lifting her down off the counter before flinging one around his waist as well.

They needn't have worried about being seen though, as the red headed woman and her dark haired lover were too preoccupied in their own embrace to notice that they weren't alone.

They tiptoed quietly out of the bathroom, clothes in hand. Regulus checking to make sure the coast was clear, before they proceeded cautiously down the hall. Once in the safety of Hermione's thankfully empty room, they promptly collapsed in a fit of laughter.

————


	22. Lost In The Moment With You

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**Chapter Twenty-Two**

—

_Lost in the Moment With You_

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_The Isle of Avalon_

Kreacher had gone immediately to tell Daisy about the disappearance of Regulus and Hermione. He was shocked, however, when the female elf had simply smiled and nodded. His Master Regulus, his favorite person in the world was missing and this crazy elf was smiling! He couldn't believe it.

Daisy, on the other hand, took this news as good news. It was finally happening. The plans had been laid so long ago, they were a bit foggy, even to her. But she knew it was all going to be alright. Merlin had never been wrong about this kind of thing, after all.

She could see that her reaction had upset her new friend though, so she tried to explain the best she could.

They were creating a new world, she told him. One that married the best parts of the world as they knew it, and the best parts of the world outside of their little bubble, the world how everyone else knew it. They hoped, she said, that it would be enough to end this foolishness for once and for all.

Nobody deserved to be looked down upon for the circumstances of their own birth, with only millennia's of poor information to blame. It wouldn't hurt that some of the most well known people in this category would have the old families behind them.

It wouldn't do to simply have everyone flip roles though, she added. The goal was inclusion, after all. They had to make the key players in this generation see that everyone was the same. Equal. So that they could lead by example. His former Mistress would have had a heart attack, Kreacher thought, the nasty wench. Yes, Kreacher had done an awful lot of thinking since he had been cured. He had come to realize a number of startling things, the true colors of his formerly beloved Madam Black being one of them.

Sufficiently subdued, he realized that his friends were not in harms way, and he could not help them. So, hopeful that they would return soon, Kreacher went back to work. Anxiously waiting for the call that would signify their return.

"99 bottles of bezoars on the shelf, 99 bottles of bezoars, take one down, pass it around 98 bottles of bezoars on the shelf..." he sang, going through the ceremony once more.

All around him, elves in various states of recovery sat, watching in fascination. Learning, so they might help their friends and family as well. "Ah, it's good to be an elf!" He exclaimed to no one in particular, "Now that the curse is gone at least." Dozens of heads nodded in agreement, cheers echoing through the room. Indeed, finally, life was good.

————

_Meanwhile back at Grimmauld Place..._

How did that just happen? Hermione wondered, as she and Regulus collapsed in a fit of laughter against her bedroom door. Caught, but not noticed thankfully, in a moment of passion, by Harry and Ginny, who'd had the same idea. They'd have to have a talk about locking doors. Or knocking!

Regulus' quick thinking had saved the night. Throwing towels around them and sneaking them out of the bathroom before they were noticed had been the last thing on her mind. Speaking of, she was currently dripping all over her floor. They both were.

Wandlessly, she dried herself, then summoned some night clothes. Watching as Regulus did the same. His clothes took longer though, since they were coming from the other side of the house.

"What are you wearing?!" He laughed, looking at her chosen apparel after she had shrugged them on.

She looked down, making sure she had not summoned anything too outlandish on accident. Not wanting to end up the Dumbledore of sleepwear was a good life goal, she decided. She shrugged, seeing nothing out of the ordinary. "A tank top and sleep shorts? What's wrong with them?!"

Shaking his head he laughed, "There are angry looking furballs on your shorts!"

"They're cat's, thank you very much Mr. 'I wear spider silk pajama bottoms to bed every night'." She defended. "Should I change to something more appropriate?"

"Or you could just take them off." He suggested helpfully. Winking at her.

She chuckled, nudging him with her shoulder, "You're incorrigible!"

"You love it." He nudged her back, grinning. Regulus decided in that moment, he could get used to this. A thought that, not long ago at all, would have shocked him to the core.

Hermione paused for a moment, suddenly looking like she was far away before whispering, "I might..."

He threw an arm around her shoulder, walking her to the bed and sitting down, pulling her into his lap. "You might?" Regulus prompted.

"I do." Hermione amended, biting her lip. "Merlin help me, I love that you're incorrigible. And jealous. I love that you don't seem know your own goodness, yet you show it all the time. And you." She opted to not elaborate, drawing out the suspense a little bit. She liked the excitement of the hint of ambiguity the statement offered.

Regulus didn't enjoy it quite as much. Instead, he just looked confused. His eyebrows furrowed adorably. "And me? What do you mean?"

She smirked, rolling off his lap and into the bed proper, "Nothing dear... Now come hold me, I'm exhausted."

Regulus Black didn't need to be told twice. He laid down, pulled her against himself and began stroking her hair. A feeling of contentment coming over him that he had never felt before. He had to admit that he liked it. And her, very much.

Suddenly, his hand stilled. 'And her.' The statement repeated in his head. "Oh!" He gasped, suddenly comprehending her statement, just as her breathing evened out, indicating she was asleep.

Elated, he lay awake for a while, letting the feelings from the night crash over him, like waves crashing on the beach. He didn't even notice when his eyes got heavy, until suddenly he was simply asleep.

————

_Hogwarts School of Witchcraft Wizardry, Founders Era_

Godric Gryffindor was just sitting down to clean his sword and scabbard after a hard day of training, when an object appeared next to his cleaning supplies.

This item, though, was like nothing he had ever seen before. Oh, how he loved a good mystery!

Inspecting the strange cylinder closer, he noted that it had more than one part. Furrowing his brows in concentration, he reached out, and slowly undid the top. He was delighted to find something that appeared to be edible.

Before he was able to take a bite though, a compulsion to go to the great hall overcame him. His sword could be polished later, he decided, rising to do just that.

Striding down the hallway, he considered the events of the day. The natives were restless! Students fighting over the inclusion vs. exclusion of those born in non-magical homes. Teachers worried that they'd be named for inquisitions if their existence leaked out into the homes of man. His own friend Salazar among them, probably the most terrified of the whole bunch, despite his posturing.

Sir Slytherin was a good man though, even if he was a bit misguided at times. Losing your family, at such a tender age as he had, could do that to a fellow. Especially to the pyre. Yes, he had a wife and kids of his own now, but... the damage had been done, and some things just stuck.

Thus the sparring, they both needed to get out their extra... feelings. Rage, worry, hunger, what have you. Hitting something usually did the trick, they found.

As he entered the Hall, Godric announced loudly that he had an idea, although he wasn't aware what he was going to say when he opened his mouth. The words came out of their own accord. "I, Lord Gryffindor, have found a solution to our problem. We must sort the students into the categories we feel are most prudent for their success. Divide them into houses under one of us, that they may learn in an environment that suits them."

Announcement made, he pulled out a seat between Salazar and the beautiful Lady Ravenclaw, sitting the cylinder next to him. Rowena reached for it first, but Sir Slytherin was far quicker.

"Is this your sorting mechanism?" The other man mocked, raising an eyebrow in distaste. Godric simply shook his head. "Well, what is it then?"

"It shouldn't be a thing!" Rowena argued, stating her view, "It should be a test. Knowledge before pleasure is life's greatest treasure, after all."

"A blood test maybe," Slytherin snarked, "That we all needn't fear dying in our sleep if the savages poison the minds of our people born to them."

Godric interceded, "Ok so an object that tests the students for qualities. Rowena gets those that value knowledge, Salazar those of good breeding and purity of intention, I'll take the brave ones, and... Lady Hufflepuff!" He called by way of greeting, seeing the final member of their group had made her way to the table.

"Godric is going to sort the students with an object." Salazar informed her snidely, rolling his eyes.

She smiled, absently patting him on the shoulder, "That's nice, Sal. I'm sure it will be wonderful."

"Well, who do you want?" Salazar prompted, hoping she would name some far flung ideals to make this dreadful interaction interesting. Neglecting, however, to give her the necessary parameters with which to work.

Helga simply shook her head, "What? Is this a test?" She tutted, "I'll take anyone who wants to learn. Not everyone is good at tests."

"There you go, Godric the Great, call forth your object." Slytherin goaded. Lord Gryffindor looked around, but saw nothing that he felt would be sufficient for the purpose. "Thought not." Salazar shrugged, smirking.

Lord Gryffindor grabbed his mystery cylinder, popping a piece of stale bread in his mouth, then loudly and quite publicly challenged his friend. "Salazar Slytherin, I dare you to eat one of these pieces of stale bread, then go create a cave, and slither into it to hide like the coward you are!" Both females at the table gasped at the display unfolding before them. Both men were prone to shows of masculinity though, challenging each other to pointless things often enough that this wasn't terribly shocking to the women.

Shoving a piece of the proffered bread into his mouth, so as not to back down from a challenge in public, Salazar enacted his own crazy demand. Foolish Gryffindor's! "Well, Lord Gryffindor, I dare you to turn your hat into a way to sort out which students are yours, so you may stop ceaselessly bickering with us 'simple minded fools' ever again!"

Raising his chin, Salazar stood to fulfill the rest of his challenge with as much dignity as he could muster. He'd show that billowing buffoon! "Merlin, save us all," He intoned, watching in satisfaction as the cylinder disappeared from his stupid friends hands, leaving him pouting in disappointment.

"Sit down, Sal, at least eat dinner first." The portly redhead ordered, sullenly pulling his tattered hat from his head and beginning to spell it, with help from the women, to sort their students. He acquiesced, if only to see the show they were unintentionally producing for his viewing pleasure. He was content amusing himself by throwing out insults every time they did something he thought was stupid, which was often.

After the first two comments, they began insulting him back until, at last, the talking monstrosity was introduced to the hall at large. The threadbare headwear proudly declaring itself as "the sorting hat". Ah! He loved his life.

Stomping through the hallways, after finishing his dinner, Salazar tried to figure out where the best place would be to hide his 'cave'. How stupid, he thought. Who calls secret lairs caves anymore? No, he would call his, the 'chamber of secrets', and fill it with all sorts of surprises. Most importantly, a snake— and a statue of himself!

The former, he thought, to protect his lair, and by extension him, from any non wizard born students, lest they get sneaky ideas from their parents. The later, well, he had always wanted a giant statue of himself, and it would make a spectacular hiding spot.

Maybe he would even build a secret room behind it, to hold his books and things he didn't want the cursed students knowing about. Things too dangerous to wind up in the hands of man.

After crafting his masterpiece, he sent Godric a missive stating he had fulfilled his challenge, and wouldn't teach his classes until the other man could find him. Settling into his ultimate hiding spot, complete with time stasis spells usually used for food, so he wouldn't get too bored as time passed. Salazar grabbed a good book and began to read. Lord Gryffindor was a fantastically slow searcher after all, notoriously so.

Unfortunately, Salazar hadn't been paying attention to what language he had been speaking when setting his passwords. Unknowingly setting both the entrance to the chamber, and his hiding spot, in parseltongue, a language that the other man did not know, nor did he know anyone else but Salazar that spoke it. And thus, Sir Salazar Slytherin effectively disappeared, entirely unaware that he was doing so.

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	23. The Hazards of Tradition

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**Chapter Twenty-Three**

—

_The Hazards of Tradition_

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The Minister had been by almost every day since Regulus and Hermione had returned from their unplanned adventure, hoping for an update.

The missing prophecy had returned itself to the ministry with no further mishaps, but it was clear this was no ordinary prophecy. Normal prophecies didn't disappear and reappear of their own will. And as such, he wanted to do everything in his power to ensure that it was fulfilled in a safe and orderly manner, preferably a timely one as well.

Unfortunately a certain brown haired, headstrong witch was being uncooperative as of late. She had thrown herself into learning all she could about everything but what she should be figuring out. She just really didn't want to end up trapped in that chest again, and nobody could really blame her for that.

Instead, for the past month she had frequented the ministry, the Griffins Keep, and Avalon. Researching anything she could get her hands on. She had rebuilt the time turners that were damaged in the war, using her new sands to improve them. She had sorted the library at the Keep alphabetically, by both subject and author. And she had hounded Daisy into helping her memorize every plant, animal and creature on Avalon, and their place and purpose there.

After that, Daisy had all but kicked her out, the feisty little blond stating bluntly that Hermione was avoiding her destiny and she wanted no part of it. Regulus had been on Daisy's side, unfortunately, resulting in the witch ignoring him for the majority of the week. Until today.

————

Regulus Black had decided that he'd had enough. Today he practically glued himself to the side of his stubborn little curly haired witch. He was not above finding any excuse to lead her to her room in an attempt at goading her to open the trunk. In fact, that's just what he did.

"For Merlin's sake, Hermione!" He finally exploded, after the thousandth unsuccessful attempt, "It's just a trunk!"

Regulus threw his hands in the air, waving them around as he talked. "The prophecy said you'd find things in there," He reminded her, "What's to say you don't open the thing only to find they're just sitting there, perfectly normally? It could truly be just that simple."

She had the decency to look ashamed. "What if it isn't?" Hermione whispered, looking at the floor. Wishing she were anywhere that the trunk wasn't.

"Then I'll be right here with you." He responded gently, moving to take her hands in his.

Regulus led her to the corner that she had shoved the trunk into. Knowing she was still refusing to look at it, he lifted her hand in his, and pressed her key to the lock until the satisfying click was heard. "So far so good." He commented wryly, earning a glare from the woman next to him.

He reached out, opening the lid gingerly, as she watched, a worried expression on her face. "Oh my goodness!" He gasped.

Hermione blanched, eyes widening expecting the worst.

"Papers!" The dark haired man said in mock horror, clasping a hand to his mouth.

She spun so quickly his eyes almost didn't register the movement. She was simply there, and then she was somewhere else. He felt the distinctive burn of a smack alight on his shoulder. "I hate you!" She raged, "Why would you do that to me?!"

He couldn't answer, he was far too busy laughing, and clutching his shoulder in pain. Rolling her eyes, Hermione moved around him, sure to cast a charm on the contents of the chest before picking them up and placing them on her bed.

"I thought you loved how incorrigible I am?" The dark haired man remarked, once he had found his breath again. Coming to stand beside her.

She shook her head, "Maybe, when it doesn't give me a heart attack." The curly haired witch snarked, still staring at the pile of papers like they were something distasteful.

"I don't know, I think you love it all the same." He quipped back at her, "You're just upset at the situation in general and taking it out on innocent little Regulus."

She smirked. "I could take it out on innocent little Regulus," she said looking downward, "then we could see how much you love how encouragable I am."

Suddenly choking on air, he stepped back quickly, giving the witch space, "No, no, do carry on... I'll just be..." he backed up further, trying to find somewhere out of the way. He settled on the chair by the window, hastily grabbing a pillow with which to cover himself. Satisfied, he finished his sentence, "I'll just be over here if you need anything. By the way, have I told you how pretty you look today?"

Sifting through the papers with a satisfied look, she chuckled, "That's what I thought."

Unable to choose which to look at first, Hermione closed her eyes and picked up the first paper her hand touched. "Oh look, a paper about... jewels... oh goody!" She said sarcastically.

The chest glowed from its corner, and she requested Regulus go check it. He did, covering himself with his pillow the whole way. The chest was full of jewelry.

So that's how it works, she thought, waving her hand and watching the items place themselves in a formerly almost empty jewelry case she had laying around.

The next paper, in her opinion, was more exciting. "Books!" She screeched in elation. Watching in amusement as Regulus' pillowy shield fell to the floor as he tried to protect his eardrums from the sudden assault.

She waited patiently for the chest to glow, then impatiently for the man to open the chest and reveal the precious artifacts to her eager eyes. Eyes wide, she moved them reverently, by hand, to the shelf nearest her bed. So she could stare at them whenever she liked.

"Say, do you think you'll be given lunch in this strange circus sideshow?" The man joked, before whining "I'm starving!"

"Kreacher," Hermione drawled, immitating her lover. Laughingly requesting some sustenance at the elves leisure, much to the elves amusement.

"I hope it gives me a whole library, or or... a pony." She joked.

"Maybe a thestral, with your luck." Regulus corrected, picking up a paper that had fallen to the floor. Browsing its contents he smirked, "Ah, no such luck, sorry dear, just some old stuffy pureblood junk. Nothing you'd be interested in."

Swiping the papers from his hands, with only a "give me those!" for warning, she read with a look of mild distaste. "A castle, really? How's a castle going to fit in that chest?"

"How would a library— or a pony for that matter— fit in there?" He asked, sticking out his tongue.

She rolled her eyes, "Magic, duh." Before looking confusedly at the chest. "It's not doing anything...?"

"You broke it with your insolence." He deadpanned, before pointing at the jewelry box. It was glowing instead.

Carefully crossing the room, she opened the glowing drawer, finding the object responsible for the light show. A ring, bearing the same symbol as her necklace and Regulus' mark. She reached for it, only to quickly withdraw her hand with a yelp.

"It's hot!" Hermione complained, frowning.

A puzzled look overtook Regulus face, before he walked over to her, and gently moved her aside. Cautiously, he reached out his hand, and grasped the ring. Relieved when it wasn't hot to his touch. "Shall I?" He asked, indicating he wanted her hand.

"Why Mister Black, are you trying to put a ring on my finger so soon?!" She joked.

He gulped, adjusting his collar awkwardly, "Seems that way, doesn't it?"

Patting his head, she laughed, "I'm kidding, Reg, calm down. Plus, there's a chance we already took part in a marriage ceremony remember? You could be worrying for nothing, unknowingly stuck with me for life."

"Is that supposed to make me feel better, or worse?" He asked, eyes as wide as saucers. Using his free hand to shove a sandwich in his mouth from the platter that had just appeared next to him. "Thank you," he breathed, happy for the distraction.

"Worse, definitely." She joked, laughing at his discomfort. For a pureblood who was raised with the belief that they would marry who they were told to, when they were told to, because they were told to, he sure seemed to hate the idea of it all. "Now, be a good boy, put the sandwich down and do as the nice glowing piece of jewelry wants. I think it's getting impatient." She said, noting that it was suddenly flashing.

He hesitated. Shoving the rest of his sandwich in his mouth, manners be damned, he was hungry!

Clearly something was bothering him that she just didn't understand. "What am I missing? What's wrong, is it me?" Hermione asked, wondering what all this was about. It was just a piece of jewelry! Wasn't it?

"I... I'm just... nothing." He stuttered, before clearing his throat and starting again. "It's nothing, really, it's just hard to get away from the knowledge and traditions I was raised with. For all I know this signifies the same things...If I do this... I was just really hoping to have a choice, now that I'm free of my mothers grasp."

This took her off guard. She hadn't thought about that. Hermione realized he didn't subscribe to some of the same beliefs as his parents, he'd told her as much, and proved it on a number of occasions. But... she didn't want to force him into anything, just as she didn't want to be forced into anything either. She'd really never thought about marriage seriously before, so none of this had really come up.

Making a quick decision, Hermione nodded her head and barked, "Regulus, put the ring down."

The poor man looked very confused. She was giving him conflicting orders though, come to think of it, so she didn't blame him. Much. "Seriously, just... lets just talk for a moment." Hermione said, guiding him to sit next to her on the bed.

The ring didn't like this change of plans, flashing red as if it were angry. She didn't particularly care at the moment, it was just a piece of jewelry. He was a person. This was important to Regulus, so it was important to her. The ring could wait.

Speaking of Regulus, he was looking a bit green, staring between her and the ring.

"Ok, now don't look at me like that! Forget the ring." She demanded, "Focus on me. I've known you for a while now," she began, slowly gathering courage as she went, "I've respected you for even longer...But as I've gotten to know you, that respect has grown into a certain kind of —fondness."

He was smiling softly, a little less sick looking, that was a good sign, she guessed. "If I asked you, if we were a couple, what would you say?"

His eyes grew wide, realization flashing through them. "Well, yes... I thought that was obvious?"

"Oh, it was." She laughed, nudging him playfully with her shoulder. "But just hear me out. So we are a couple, by our own choosing, right?" He nodded, so she proceeded with her talk, "I don't take that lightly, do you?"

"N-no? I've never liked someone enough to... oh." He stuttered. Hermione could almost see the wheels turning in his mind.

She continued, not waiting to see if he was done talking, "And I'd like very much to continue our relationship."

He nodded in agreement, suddenly standing and thinking out loud, "According to pureblood tradition, a sort of betrothal would be the logical next step in this scenario. Involving a piece of jewelry, usually a ring."

"Would you choose that on your own, for you and I? Or would you rather walk away from tradition completely?" She pressed.

He squinted at her, raising an eyebrow. "Traditions are important!" He declared, standing suddenly. Pacing back and forth rapidly before her, as she watched.

"You're not answering the question, Mister Black." Her hand shot out to grab his wrist, stopping him from his dizzying actions, "Do you... want that... with me?" Hermione enunciated.

The unflappable 'Mister Black' gasped. "Yes...of course, yes!" Blushing, he chastised himself out loud, "I'm being a proper idiot, aren't I?"

Hermione smiled a real smile for the first time in a while, shaking her head fondly at the dark haired man before her. "So is it really against your choice, to do this? If you think about it...". She prompted, hoping she had been on the right track to fixing his discomfort. Otherwise, she decided, she would gladly walk away. From the ring that is. He was stuck with her, like it or not.

In fact, she fancied herself in love with the poor sod, although she hadn't said so much to him. At least not the exact words.

He jumped up, grabbed the glowing piece of jewelry and presented it to her properly. Just as he had been taught.

On one knee, now looking sure of himself, "Hermione Granger" Regulus started, stopping as the ring flashed red. He tried again, "Mistress of Life, Hermione Granger, Lady la Fay...?" Another red flash.

A paper fell to the floor next to Hermione's feet. She picked it up, quickly scanning it with raised eyebrows, before turning it towards her lover.

"Oh... o—Kay..." he sighed before beginning for the third time. "Mistress of Life, Hermione Emerys Pendragon Dagworth Granger, Lady la Fay of Avalon."

They both held their breath. No flash came, so he continued, "I offer you this ring, as a token of my affections, a sign of my intent to take you as my wife— should we both find it agreeable. Do you so accept?"

Unbidden, tears came to Hermione's eyes. She blinked them away, smiling at him. His ability to alter tradition just so, was so... refreshing. "I do." She whispered, and watched, oddly breathless, as he slid the glowing ring onto her finger.

He gasped, as the mark on his forearm glowed, matching the glow from the ring. A feeling of warmth and contentment settling through him, as their lights faded in tandem.

Another paper fell at her feet. She eyed it warily. "Don't suppose that's a pony, do you?" Hermione pouted.

"As long as it's not another name." Joked the man still kneeling before her. He grabbed at the paper, then rose to press a kiss to her pouting lips. "It's a mouthful already. A lovely, very distinguished mouthful." He corrected at her dark look.

Smiling as he perused the contents of the paper in his hands he relayed some glorious news, "It's instructions on how to get to your castle, m'lady." He said, sticking out his tongue at her, before finishing his thought in all seriousness, "Finally, something that doesn't take us along for an unexpected ride!"

Hermione snorted, "I'd drink to that... if I ever planned to drink again."

"I have so many stories to catch up on!" Regulus lamented. There were more papers waiting for them, so it would have to wait just a little bit longer, but teasing her would do in the meantime. "But you do owe me a drink, a celebratory one, of course... hey, no frowning, it's tradition!"

"One drink." Hermione relented, begrudgingly, "to celebrate us. And to prepare for Sirius' response to all this... I'm sure it will be... something else... maybe two drinks, come to think of it."

Regulus gawked, imagining his older brothers reaction. He never quite knew what to expect from Sirius. "Maybe two bottles, at that point... Is the next paper about a pony? If not, maybe Sirius will buy you one for all but joining the family."

Retrieving the next one, she sighed, pretending to be disappointed. "No, just Gringotts stuff. Everything must have updated over the years, because that bank most definitely didn't exist in Merlin's time."

"Tragedy, maybe the next one?" He asked, hopefully. Trying to break the monotony.

Tired of this process, herself, Hermione pulled the remaining pages into her lap, "No luck... just some artifacts... a collection of wands, staffs and amulets...various letters from ancestors to other ancestors..." She sent each group of items to their place, as Regulus opened the chest after each glow. The final paper however —

"Also not a pony." Hermione sighed, laughing.

Regulus shook his head in mock disappointment, "Going to share with the class?"

She shook her head no, turning the paper so he could see why. "Oh." He said dumbly. It was blank.

"I assume whatever is supposed to be on there is what the prophecy referred to as my 'peace of mind'... Suppose we will see in time though." She sighed wearily, "I think I'm ready for that bottle now." Hermione admitted. "And apparently story time... although I'm not sure what you want to know?"

His eyes lit up, much like a kid on Christmas morning. "Ev-ver-y-thing!" He exclaimed, causing the girl to shake her head in exasperation.

"Come on lover boy, let's go rejoin the world at large." She sighed dramatically, "We'd better get started quickly if you want to know everything, before someone comes to steal me away, demanding answers, or worse, details!"

Regulus Black had a healthy ego, growing by the day it seemed. Hermione sure hated to feed it so very much, but she did so without meaning to- most of the time.

"You talk about me? In detail?!" He smirked, wiggling his eyebrows. Practically skipping from the room, while she covered her face with her hands and groaned, loudly.

Case in point.

————


	24. Ashes to Ashes, Dust to Dust

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**Chapter Twenty-Four**

—

_Ashes to Ashes, Dust to Dust_

————

Grimmauld Place had become the host to a new tradition, a weekly poker night to be exact, since the first ill fated poker night a few weeks ago. People just happened to show up the same time each week, so it's residents had made it an official 'thing'. And it was glorious! Not to mention probably the most excitement this house had seen in decades— or longer!

As Hermione and Regulus made their way into the room, hands clasped together in an intimate manner, the boisterous noise faded to a din. Although the silence was replaced in moments by cat calls. The same thing had been happening to Harry and Ginny, after the conversation about knocking had gotten loud enough that Sirius had overheard. That man could put two and two together startlingly quickly.

Alas, once Sirius knew it was inevitable that everyone else would. Seeing as he was a worse gossip than most women! Hence this particular welcome, not the first of its kind, surely not the least.

"At least I'm getting some." Regulus commented, taking a bow. Beside him Hermione blushed profusely, both from the eyes on her and the knowledge that her private life was nowhere near as private as she would have liked.

Sirius waved him off, "Let me know when she makes an honest man out of you, then I'll be impressed." The older man was still laughing boisterously when his younger brother held up the hand of the girl next to him. At which point he promptly choked on his laughter. "Holy mother of...!"

Running around the poker table he threw his arms around Hermione, who was beginning to think she would be left blushing for life.

"Oh, you wonderful witch!" He gushed, "Mother would be rolling in her grave... wait! —We should tell her the _glorious_ news. There is finally a witch worthy of the Black name! First in a long while, as far as I'm concerned."

Back up the staircase they went, dragged bodily by Sirius Black, who had a firm grip on each of their wrists. He pulled them into Regulus' old room, unused since their mother had taken up residence. "Mother!" He singsonged, a shit eating grin on his face as the portrait was roused from her slumber.

She glared from within the frame, "Whatever has you so happy, _bloodtraiter_, I do not wish to know it."

"Oh but mother dearest— is that a _crack_ I see? Ah, no, just a wrinkle, sorry!" Sirius taunted the witch, who began running her hands over her face, worry alight in her eyes. Vanity was one thing one wouldn't expect from Walburga Black of all people, but alas it was there nonetheless. "Anyway mummy, our little Regulus is getting married!" He declared. The portrait froze.

Knowing her eldest son, he wouldn't be gloating like this about anything that would make her proud. But her youngest, her dear Regulus... he wouldn't stoop from the standards he was raised with, would he? She eyed the familiar female between her sons warily. "_Mudblood_." She drawled, tone full of icy rage.

Suddenly Regulus himself stood directly in front of her, rage apparent in his eyes. "Mother," he warned, "May I present my intended. Mistress of Life, Hermione Emerys Pendragon Dagworth Granger, the Lady la Fay, of Avalon. The muggleborn pureblood, as she likes to refer to herself."

A crack appeared, right on the middle of her forehead, as the witch in the painting looked ...constipated. Her youngest son, however, was not done talking.

"A lot has changed since you've been gone Mother. Your Lord was a megalomaniacal halfblood who was only seeking power for himself, and I nearly died trying to stop his quest to become immortal. Your favorite elf, well all of the elves, were wretched cursed beings that are all being healed to their former glory. Your husband hid the best parts of this house from you, presumably so he wouldn't have to deal with your fanaticism, or so he would have a place to escape to." He heaved a deep breath, "And you... you would have me be just like you? A _miserable, hateful _human being with no sliver of happiness in my whole life?" He paused before continuing with renewed vigor. "_I think not_! I want more, and I've _finally_ come to realize that that's ok."

Sirius fist pumped the air, "Tell her Reggie!" His younger brother just rolled his eyes.

"Mother, I love you, I do." Regulus sighed, watching as more cracks were blossoming across the canvas, "But you're like... some poisonous plant that causes disease to everything it touches. I want no part of that."

The cracks were spreading faster now, as he finished his speech. "I will be leaving you today for the last time. I'm hopeful that you won't be able to poison anyone else ever again. In fact, I think I'll even let Sirius erect a cement wall over the doorway."

She was screeching now, a hideous keening noise, like a mermaids voice above water. Oh, how he wished she would just sink beneath the waves somewhere, so he could be rid of the Harpy! With a sigh at her over the top dramatics, he turned his back on the portrait, whispering "Goodbye, Mother."

A sound like sand falling to the floor was the only thing that made him turn back around. The sight that awaited him took a moment to register, until his mind realized that the frame was the only thing left on the wall. A pile of dust was settling to the ground underneath the spot where the portrait of his mother had been moments before.

All three people in the room gasped simultaneously. "She's gone!" Hermione exclaimed, as Sirius hummed the tune to "_Ding Dong the Witch is Dead_".

"Good riddance to bad portraits." Regulus sighed, pushing everyone from the room after vanishing his mothers ashes with a resolute evanesco. The door shut behind them with a satisfying _click_.

—————

Sirius had rushed off immediately to somewhere he wouldn't specify, leaving Hermione and Regulus to rejoin the rest of the group alone.

"You ok?" Hermione whispered, bringing them to a halt just before the doorway. The noises of the poker game echoing out at them, providing a bit of much needed privacy.

He sighed for what he felt was the hundredth time that night. "I should be sad. Or ashamed even...But I'm not." His arms wrapped her in a tight hug. "Thank you, Hermione." He breathed, "For everything. Putting up with my incorrigible self, the mood swings, and the— drama. For always being by my side through thick and thin, and helping me navigate my own -admittedly confusing- emotions."

"Of course. Always." She replied, squeezing him back tightly. "That's what you do when you love someone."

He barked out a laugh. "And you...?"

"Love you?" She questioned, raising a dainty eyebrow, "I thought that much was obvious." She deadpanned, quoting his earlier statement.

"Me too." He sighed, smiling.

Predatory look back on her face she mocked offense. "If you thought it was obvious, why did you ask?" She said, poking her finger into his chest for emphasis.

"Crazy witch," he huffed, throwing his hands in the air in exasperation before stating loudly, "I love you too!"

"We love you too Regulus!" Their friends chorused from the other room. A convenient break in the noise having made his already loud statement easily heard from inside the room. He blushed and groaned loudly, as his witch dragged him in to join the game. Sirius rushing in behind them, arms full of liquor bottles.

"Tonight," the oldest Black sibling declared, raising a bottle of Ogden's finest, "We celebrate!"

Cheers erupted, as the bottles poured themselves into glasses, conducted by Sirius' expert wand work. Regulus drank deeply, before loudly calling out to his brother, a devious look in his eyes, "Hey Sirius, Hermione here wants a pony instead."

The older man smirked, "Someone's not doing their job well enough, eh?" Sirius winked then, taking pity on his brother, and transfigured an empty sleeve of cards into a giant white horse in the middle of the living room.

Hermione rolled her eyes, sharing a look with Ginny, "Boys..." they said, shaking their heads in unison.

"It really is a pretty pony though," Ginny commented, running her hands over the side of the horse.

Hermione nodded thoughtfully, "Too bad it's not able to fit through any of the doorways though. The poor thing can hardly move in this stuffy room!"

The red headed girl took another drink of her firewhisky, then shouted "bombarda" at the nearest door. Looking innocently at Hermione, while everyone else was still ducking for cover, she winked. "Fancy a pony ride?" She asked,wiggling her eyebrows for emphasis.

Hermione first, then Ginny climbed atop the horse, walking it through the now plenty large doorway. "Hey Gin... you know you could have just used an engorgio right?" Hermione laughed.

The redhead shook with laughter behind her. "Oh, I know, but I've always wanted to blow holes in this place! The decor is almost as bad as the layout!"

Vaguely they heard Regulus complaining to Harry, something along the lines of "Oi, Potter! You witch is corrupting my witch, now they're running off together!" While Sirius tried to make sure none of the dust from the explosion ruined the refreshments he had been busy preparing.

They almost made it to the front door too, when the floo flared to life and the Minister of Magic himself appeared. "Hermione Granger!" He called out, not smiling, "Get off the horse. It appears we have some talking to do."

Hermione pouted, but complied, leaving Ginny to her pony ride, while she addressed the man who had been hounding her for the last month. "Kingsley." She greeted, "What's so important that it interrupted my celebratory pony ride?"

His eyes widened comically at this uncharacteristic side of the woman in front of him, before his face turned stony again. Speaking sternly, he explained his presence, "The Wizengamot is in shambles tonight." He announced, drawing a crumpled paper from the pocket of his robes.

He cleared his throat before reading the missive in his hand. " 'Dear Mister Minister, Sir,' it begins...'The Wizengamot appears to be broken. We have moved on several important bills, but the magic will not accept them. Several seats appear to be glowing, sir, as if waiting to be claimed. Seats from houses long extinct, and thought to be erased from the roles.' Etc etc etc, blah blah blah... care to guess the names?"

Hermione looked down guiltily. "I'm sure I could. How can we help?" She asked. Ashamed for her earlier antics. She couldn't even be around alcohol it seemed, without making a fool of herself.

Regulus, Sirius in tow, came into view, appearing just in time to hear the ministers response. "Come to the ministry, answer the summons, and we will go from there." Not having caught the first part of the conversation, the boys misunderstood the context of the conversation.

Instantly protective, Regulus rushed to her and wrapped his arms around her, while Sirius drew his wand on the Minister of Magic himself, yelling sternly, "You _can't_ take her! She hasn't done _anything_!" His nostrils flared in fury, "She won't be locked up unnecessarily like I was, the house of Black cannot allow it!"

Kingsley rolled his eyes at the dramatics, "Down boy, you're coming too." He stated, "And Harry... and those Weasley wonder boys. Ah, and you too, I suppose." He said, looking at Regulus. Poor Sirius was rendered speechless, rage still contorting his features as his mouth open and closed soundlessly.

Sensing a misunderstanding, Regulus reached out and lowered his brothers wand arm. He spoke softly, but sternly saying, "Sirius, I don't think anyone is in trouble." He looked questioningly between the Minister and his witch.

"He's right Sirius," Hermione added, watching the tension slowly bleed from the mans form. "The Wizengamot is having problems. The magic won't work for any votes they take and several seats are glowing, demanding their holders get a vote. Kingsley has reason to believe we are involved."

Regulus laughed, imagining the chaos in the chambers. The stuffy old pureblood men, chasing their tales trying to figure out this problem. Although, he had to wonder... "Why today, of all days, why now?" He asked.

The Minister looked at the girl in front of him, with a pointed gaze. She sighed. "It's my birthday...?" Shrugging, she moved to walk through the floo when the arm around her tightened. She was stuck. Poo.

"But she's the same age as Harry, right?" She heard Sirius ask behind her. The boy who always seemed to show up when his name was mentioned chose that moment to pop in. "What's going on?" He asked cluelessly, eyebrows furrowed.

Regulus answered quickly, "Its Hermione's birthday, apparently. Why did no one say anything? Did you know?"

"I, uh,... it's not Hermione's birthday... her birthday is September 19th!" She could picture him furrowing his brow, and looking all confused, then proud when he remembered the correct date. Despite the fact that she couldn't see him at the moment.

Hermione knew she had to face the music, so she turned to face her friends. "Today is my birthday. Because I used a time turner for so long, and my tests on time messed it up further. Anyway, I technically am older than I actually am. Which would make today my 25th birthday, by the laws of time, instead of my 22nd in September.

So yes, it's May and very far from September, when I would —no, I'd still have to be forced to celebrate the fact that I'm aging— but, that's besides the point. The twins claimed their Lordships, officially the other day, so they have to come. I have... all this random stuff going on. Sirius you have your seat, unless you want Regulus to take it... wait he's not 25 yet so you're stuck for now. Meaning Regulus is helping me!"

The only thing Sirius gathered from her speech, judging by his next comment, was her age. She realized this as he shouted, "Hey Reg, you got yourself a cougar!"

Kingsley smacked him across the back of the head, knowing Hermione would do it if he didn't. But he really just wanted to do it. "Wonder Twins, Activate!" The Minister shouted through the doorway, knowing they'd know who was talking by that phrase alone. It had been an inside joke with them since he'd become a fixture at poker night.

Not ones to disappoint, the twins popped through the door moments later, side by side due to its new width. "Field trip," Kingsley said by way of explanation, guiding the group to the floo. He was getting tired of explaining things so many times to so many people. Being Minister was hard!

————

_Chambers of the Wizengamot, _

_Courtroom 10, Level 10, Ministry of Magic_

—

The courtroom was abuzz, waiting for the Minister to figure out just what was going on.

'They'd voted, that should have been that!', The members clambered. But it wasn't, and now they were stuck there until it was figured out! Thankfully, Minister had sent dinner in for everyone present, or there would have been a riot by now.

Lucius Malfoy was looking like he was starting problems though, noticed Amelia Bones, who happened to be presiding over the 'festivities' that night. He had gathered a group of people, all whispering furtively in the center of the floor.

Madam Longbottom, on the other hand, looked like she was seconds from sleep. Maybe she was asleep, Amelia wasn't sure, but she thought she saw the barest hint of drool coming from the corner of the older woman's mouth regardless.

"Come on Kings, where are you?" She whispered, tapping her fingers impatiently on the table before her. Suddenly the doors swung open, and in walked Minister Shacklebolt himself, as if Merlin were controlling his very timing. She stood, hoping he came bearing good news.

Looking at the motley crew just coming through the door behind him, Amelia wasn't sure. It could go either way with that bunch. They were good people, yes, but they also had a certain knack for finding trouble. She smiled at everyone and waited for the explanation that was sure to come.

But they passed her by completely. "Or not..." She whispered, watching their actions as they moved in what seemed to be a carefully choreographed routine.

Sirius Black reached his seat, the only one they had been able to figure out in this whole mess, and practically threw himself into it after gulping heavily. It was the others that she was watching closely. Moving as if the seats themselves were calling to them.

Eyebrows raised, she watched as the Weasley twins took two glowing chairs side by side. Up high enough to be a seat for an ancient family... very ancient. Double checking her notes, she gasped.

"Thank you Lord Black, Lord Gryffindor, and Lord Gryffindor." She said loudly, drawing gasps from the courtroom. Her eyebrows were still rising as she tracked the slight female, followed by her two muscular friends.

She kept climbing higher, and higher in the stands. Following the glow from a series of seats located on the highest level. Amelia wasn't even going to look at her notes. She didn't have it in her, if she wanted to remain standing.

As if seeing the shock on the older woman's face, Miss Granger turned and addressed the courtroom before even attempting to sit in a seat. "Relax Madam Bones, I can introduce myself. Clearly I am Hermione Granger, muggleborn." She stated, drawing the laughter of the courtroom. Hermione took a deep breath before continuing, "But I am also known as... the Mistress of Life, Hermione Emerys Pendragon Dagworth Granger, the Lady la Fay, of Avalon."

Amelia thought the announcement of the Weasley twins title had created commotion, it was nothing compared to this. This was... pandemonium! "Thank you Miss Granger." She said, smiling despite the headache she could feel forming. She watched warily as the witch sat down, a wizard on either side of her.

Quickly explaining the motions being voted on that night, she was reminded exactly what a force of nature the people were that was dealing with, especially the one with what appeared to be fire running through her hair. First by the Minister, whispered in her ear, then by the witch on the top row.

Yes, Hermione Granger was in the building. She asked hard questions fearlessly, she made statements that made others think. She... would be very good for the Wizengamot, Amelia thought fondly. Especially when the witch in question asked for a recess, allowing them to take the votes the following week, after everyone had had time to look it all over properly.

Mixed emotions of relief and irritation ran amok. Everyone was glad to be allowed out of the courtroom, but most were upset that nothing had been finalized that night. Lucius Malfoy was one of those people.

He was also unlucky to be walking right in front of the group of newcomers whilst complaining about it, quite loudly at that. "Hey Lucy!" A voice called from behind him, causing him to pause. "Sing us a song? What about the one from the other night? You know the one...'As long as you love me, baby'..." Regulus said with a straight face.

Lord Malfoy turned around slowly, face red from embarrassment and anger, venom dripping in his voice as he seethed, pointing at Hermione and George, "Their product made me sing those— those terrible muggle songs!"

Hermione, polite as always, blinked up at the man towering over her, "Mr. Malfoy," She said calmly, "our product can't make you sing anything you don't already know. It's charmed to draw off your memories and experiences."

The pureblooded head of the Malfoy family went whiter than a ghost. He turned back around quickly, uttering not a single word more. He proceeded to hasten his pace to the apparition point, and disappear as fast as he was able to.

Regulus whistled lowly. "That was... unexpected..." he said slowly, "was it true?"

"Not a bit." George answered gleefully, "His reaction told on him though. Daddy Malfoy's been jamming to muggle slow jams! Baby Malfoy would be so... embarrassed."

"No," Hermione corrected her friend, with a secretive smile, "I checked, he didn't have the karaoke piece, although that would have been even funnier. His was the one where you can only talk in song lyrics, that get more song like the angrier or more passionate you get." She couldn't hold back the laughter, remembering the man with the mullet.

"If he liked more wizarding music then he probably would have spouted lyrics to those too... apparently he favors the loved up muggle music scene... oh! Bad mental image... he probably serenades Narcissa with them... oh... my brain!" Apparently the image was contagious, as her companions let out a chorus of groans.

"D'ya think there's enough firewhisky to erase that thought from our minds?" George asked Sirius hopefully.

The older man looked contemplative for a moment, before declaring loudly, "I don't know, but we should find out!", taking off at a sprint to the apparition point.

He was followed closely by Harry and Fred, both eager to join in this new idea.

"Save some for us!" They begged, twisting before disappearing like the others had seconds before.

Regulus shook his head at their antics. "And then there were two." He commented with a chuckle, slinging an arm around her waist.

"I feel so left out." Joked a voice from behind them. They had completely forgotten about their esteemed Minister, and favorite local pain in the ass. "So.. is this a thing now?" He wondered aloud, gesturing between them, "like a public thing with labels?"

Hermione looked at Regulus, letting him decide how he answered. She was used to being in the spotlight, for better or worse, he was still getting used to it. Smiling at her, and pressing a kiss to her cheek, he turned to the Minister. "Told my mother this morning and everything." He said proudly, giving her a squeeze.

The ministers eyebrows raised slightly. Everyone knew about Walburga Blacks... opinions... they had been quite... loud... even after her death. He was interested in hearing more of this story, he thought amusedly. Luckily, Regulus continued.

"She started cracking and eventually turned herself into dust." Regulus shrugged nonchalantly, like this was an every day occurrence. "Not sure if she was mad that I didn't ask her permission, or that I asked the muggleborn pureblood over here to be my intended in general. Either way, yes it's a public thing with labels. Are you going to crack and turn to dust too Shacklebolt?"

Kingsley Shacklebolt, the esteemed Minister of Magic, member of the order of the Phoenix, survivor of the war against Voldemort laughed. Loudly.

His booming guffaws echoing throughout the halls of the Ministry until, with tears in his eyes, he used the floo to make his way to Grimmauld Place. There he would laugh some more. And, you know, see the remnants of what once had been the portrait of Walburga Black.

————

_Malfoy Manner_

—

Lucius Malfoy was livid.

Who did that _girl_ think she was?! And Regulus Black! What was he doing associating with such scum anyway? They sure seemed to be quite chummy, at least.

As soon as he arrived home he poured himself a stiff drink. That little girl was going to ruin _everything_! She showed up on the arm of both a pureblood and the savior of the wizarding world and laid claim to not one but multiple very old, very important seats in his Wizengamot. It was an _outrage_! It was a mockery of their ways, not to mention possible line theft! It was...a _disaster_!

She held the power to sway votes her way, if she wanted to. And he was sure she wanted to. Hermione Granger had always been... _enthusiastic_... about these types of things. Merlin, his son had ranted for months about her trying to free the house elves when they were in Hogwarts. Thankfully she didn't have the knowledge or the power then to do so, but now... she could do anything she wanted.

Speaking of house elves, he needed something to eat with his drink. Where were the nasty little buggers when you needed them? "Floss?... Duggie?!... Narcissa," he called to his wife, impatiently, "where are the elves? I'm starving in here!"

She looked at him questioningly. "Did you try calling them?" At his pointed stare she backtracked, "Oh, of course you did. Sorry dear. I haven't seen an elf... in a while to be honest. I'm not sure where they've gone off to. Draco and I went out for dinner, so, I..." she trailed off, thinking, before trying to call one herself. "Duggie!"

Nothing. How strange. Noting how temperamental her husband seemed at the moment, she went off to see if there was anything in the kitchen that he could snack on until someone was able to locate an elf. Now if she could only remember where the kitchen was!

She needed help, and she knew who to ask to get it. Hopefully. Walking to her sons room, she knocked on the door, impatiently waiting for it to swing open. "Draco! Be a good boy and show me to the kitchens?" She demanded when it did.

He looked taken aback. His mother would never ask to go to a place like the kitchens, she believed it to be below her. "Is everything ok?" He asked hesitantly.

His mother shook her head. "Your father is in a mood, he's hungry and the elves have vanished." She explained.

"Vanished? Tipsy!" He called, getting no reply, he offered his mother his elbow and led her to the kitchen obediently. "That strange." He commented, "they were here before we went to dinner."

"Indeed they were, but now they are not. Do you happen to know how to make a sandwich?" She asked her son hesitantly.

He sorrowfully lowered his eyes, shaking his head negatively. "Sorry mother."

"What will we do if they don't come back?" She wondered aloud, worry creasing her brow, lamenting, "We'll starve! Or worse— have to cook for ourselves!" Narcissa Malfoy pressed a hand to her forehead, suddenly feeling faint.

————


	25. The Importance of Being Earnest

————

**Chapter Twenty-Five**

—

_The Importance of Being Earnest_

————

_Hogwarts School of Witchcraft Wizardry_

_Founders Era_

—

Godric Gryffindor was upset. He was losing to that... _snake_! Salazar had been hiding for days, and he still had no clue where to even begin!

He had checked all the normal places. His classroom, his private quarters... his home! Nothing. It's not that Lord Gryffindor was a sore loser, it's just... well, he'd never _lost_ before! What was he going to tell people?

It's not like the four of them really ever left the castle these days. Sir Slytherin had no reason to travel. Especially with the state of the world outside the hallowed halls of Hogwarts. No, he was sure Salazar was still here. He was just... really good at this game.

Although, months after the fact, when he'd seen neither hide nor hair of his friend, a glowering Godric Gryffindor had been forced into telling some semblance of the truth. He didn't know where Salazar was. He may have simply walked away, never to return.

What a pity that would be, thought the creator of the Sorting Hat. It was surely unlike him, despite the arguments about the "sort of people" they should let into Hogwarts. Surely he hadn't done that though... Godric would just have to continue looking. Salazar _had_ to show up sometime, right?

————

The piles of paper were towering over the occupants of Grimmauld Place, as they sat in the library. Once again joined by their faithful companions the Weasley twins, and their studious brother Percy. Since the Wizengamot Debacle, as it had come to be known, they had been meeting in their spare time to get to the bottom of the bills. The ones that they would be voting on that very night.

They'd made some headway, of course, but it was definitely a learning experience. "Ugh, I'm sick of— words!" Harry bemoaned, slamming a particularly thick tome, before laying his head atop it wearily.

"Seconded!" Sirius echoed, standing and stretching his sore muscles. "Votes tonight, I say we just vote opposite of old Lucy boy." Harry held a hand out, and the men shared a high five.

Hermione smiled fondly at their antics, even while shaking her head 'no', "Sounds like a great plan Sirius! That is, if you don't actually care about the rest of the world."

"So, everyone can just vote how you vote!" Sirius answered, clapping her on the back. "Ah, better yet, just be our proxy and vote for the lot of us!" He grinned, proud of his idea.

The smile on Hermione's face, slipped quickly. "It's not about the vote!" She raged, before backtracking and trying again, "It's not only about the vote, rather, it's also about solidarity. Presenting a united front." She stood quickly, and the boys braced for a lecture, knowing the look in her eyes all too well.

"For instance," she began, looking at Sirius, "Remus was a werewolf, so if a bill comes up about denying them citizenship in the wizarding world, because of something _they can't help— _How would you react?"

The man looked like he had been hit by a ton of bricks. "For Remus?" Sirius questioned softly, eyes far away, "For his memory, rather... I would staunchly oppose such a heinous thought, much less a bill supporting it."

"And we would stand with you, why? Because we know it's important to you, and because it's the right thing to do. Everybody deserves a chance." She said, nodding emphatically, "So we would sit, we would research..."

Hermione paused to wave her wand, summoning books related to lycanthropy. A few came, sluggishly, as if the library itself didn't want to give them up.

Rolling her eyes she continued, "What is lycanthropy? How does it happen, how can it be controlled, what spells that could help, potions etc.? For instance..." she waved her wand again, specifying potions books mentioning lycanthropy.

A single book flew into her hand, an old textbook known to be the home of instructions for the wolfsbane potion. Which was what she had been anticipating. What she had not been expecting was for a rumbling noise to suddenly be heard, echoing in the distance. A noise that sounded very much like something heavy being dragged across the floor.

The group shared questioning looks, before standing to investigate the noise, but it was growing louder by the second so they waited. Standing, holding their breath, and their wands, in preparation for whatever was coming their way. Whatever it was, it was close now and, by the sounds of it at least, quite large too.

Within moments, the object came into view. "Is that...?" Hermione gasped, clasping her hands over her mouth.

Regulus gaped, "That's your bookshelf, isn't it?!" She nodded, wondering just what was going on.

Being the brave one in this situation, Regulus stepped forward. Knowing that the books on that particular shelf had come from the cursed chest in her room, which was the reason why they were locked up in the first place. What surprised him the most was that one of the books was trying, quite actively, to get out!

He looked at Hermione, gesturing 'one'. She readied her wand, expecting anything. 'Two' he gestured, reaching for the latch with one hand. Feeling it under his fingers he cried, "Three!" flipping the latch and watching as the doors flew open, sending the book flying out to land squarely at her feet.

Curious, she peered down at it. It wasn't really a book, by any standard definition. More like a journal, a torn and tattered one at that. She reached out cautiously, biting her lip as she grasped it in her hand. Opening the cover, she gasped.

"What is it?" Harry asked from his spot behind Percy, as Regulus came to peer over her shoulder.

The man's eyes widened as he read the inscription allowed, "Potent Potions and their Associated Adaptations, Volume III by Hector Dagworth-Granger"

"I've never heard of a potion related to lycanthropy other than Wolfsbane..." Hermione thought out loud, "and that wasn't created by Hector Dagworth-Granger." She flipped through the book briefly, noting it was hand written and riddled with both corrections and additions. "I've never heard of any of these potions. I don't understand..." and then she saw it.

On the last page that had been written, under the title '_Pegasus Tears_' was a brief introduction that read more like a hypothesis. Breathlessly, she read in a whisper, "This potion, is intended to revert a person to their original form. Note: Should it be successful, it may have the power to remove permanent transformations including but not limited to: malnourishment, disease, spell damage (i.e. unintended transfigurations), being stuck in animangus form, lycanthropy, vampirism, etc.

Tested: TBD, waiting on willing test subjects.

Associated Adaptation Mandrake Restorative Drought, (see notes) tested 3/27/36-5/15/36, test subjects reacted positively, approved for use by general public 5/20/36."

The sound of something shattering broke the trance, as Sirius fled the room, leaving a trail of broken glass behind him. "I'll go after him," Harry called, already in motion.

Hermione looked at Regulus, then back at the book, neither knowing how to react. In her hands lay the formula to an untested potion that could change the Wizarding World in ways that were almost unfathomable. They were due at the Wizengamot in just under six hours, did they feel ready enough to run with this, or could it wait until the morning?

For Remus' memory? It wouldn't hurt to check it out, Hermione thought. She would have been content to rehash her arguments for the "stuffy old purebloods" as Regulus called them, all night if she could have. But she knew she didn't need to. This... she felt she needed to do.

"To Mungos?" Regulus asked, as if reading her mind. She nodded, suddenly swallowing a lump in her throat. She wished Remus could be here for this. Although he would have hated it, because it was untested and he was so afraid of getting his hopes up for things.

The twins went in search of Sirius and Harry, leaving Hermione, Regulus and Percy, who decided to tag along with, to apparate to the wizarding hospital.

————

The halls of St. Mungos has been familiar as they arrived, but the first orderly they saw directed them to a door none of them had ever been through. One that supposedly led to the testing and development portion of the hospital. It was, simply, blank in this particular hallway. Blank white walls, crisp white ceilings, shiny beige floors. And it seemingly went on for-ev-ver!

The most disturbing part, if you asked any of them, was that it was also completely silent. "Where _is_ everyone?" Percy wondered as they approached yet another turn in the hallway, "Or even just one person!" It was like a maze, but full of nothing.

Turning the corner, however, they found a break in the monotony. A single desk, the first object they'd even seen since they passed through the original set of doors, sat in what appeared to be some sort of waiting room. It was empty, although a bell located in the center of the desk was inscribed "RING FOR SERVICE".

Impatiently, Regulus rang the bell.

"Can I help you?" A voice called from behind the group, causing them to jump and spin at the same time. Apparently the witch thought this was amusing, if the look on her face was anything to go by. Creepy magically appearing witches _really_ did not mix well with desolate silent corridors!

Hermione cleared her throat, speaking after her pulse began to settle. "Yes, sorry you startled me!" The witch laughed, making Hermione scowl a little, "Right, we need to see someone about records of testing conducted in the nineteen-thirties?"

The witch raised her eyebrows, then narrowed her eyes, "That's oddly specific Miss. What kind of testing?"

"Potions." Regulus answered in a clipped tone, not liking the way this woman was acting. "Who do we speak with?"

"Through the door on your right," The witch replied, rolling her eyes. "Have a good day."

"Wait—" Hermione called, "Ma'm there is no" She turned quickly to double check, "—door on the right!" Hermione finished despite the fact that the creepy witch had already disappeared.

"_Bloody ghosts_!" Percy spat, as he turned to walk back down the hallway. Until, that is, he realized there was indeed a door on their right. Now there was, at least, it having magically appeared sometime between the time the ghostly witch had disappeared, and him having made his snarky comment about said ghost. "Oh... okay then."

"Thank you!?" Hermione called, hurriedly opening the door, dragging the boys through it behind her.

_Noise_! She heard noise, thankfully! They were back into the land of the living, although it appeared to be just as crisp as the former hallway had been. A voice interrupted her musing. "Welcome to the records department, how can I assist you?"

Snapping to attention, Hermione began speaking before looking up, "Yes, hi! We need information on...Pansy Parkinson?"

She had lifted her eyes mid sentence only to discover the last person she would have expected to find in a records office somewhere deep in the bowels of St. Mungos.

"You want records on me, Granger?" The girl snarked, chuckling darkly.

Hermione blushed. "No! No, sorry, records on testing carried out between the years 1930 and 1940. Specifically on a potion referred to as Pegasus Tears." She rushed, then explained, "I Just was surprised to see you hiding down here, it's kind of off the beaten path a bit."

The witch nodded in agreement at the last bit, but chose not to comment. Instead waving her wand in an attempt to gather the information requested. A single paper flew to her outstretched hand, which she read with a frown. "1936 testing requested, says it was awaiting trials when the potioneer died without leaving the instructions for the potion, or even the ingredients to the research team. The trial was cancelled."

Regulus sighed, but Percy and Hermione looked excited. "Is there a way to have the potion tested now?" Percy asked eagerly.

"Not as in right this second," Hermione corrected her overzealous companion, "but can we get the trial restarted?" She watched as the dark haired girl raised her eyebrows.

"Do you happen to have a seventy year old potion lying around?" The former Slytherin snarked haughtily.

Hermione couldn't help it, she laughed. It was good to see that some things never change. "Not yet, but I may have the list of ingredients, and the instructions, if that counts." She quirked an eyebrow, waiting for a response that wasn't forthcoming.

"Is this girl slow?" Regulus asked in no more than a whisper. Causing Hermione to chuckle, and Pansy to blush profusely. Obviously his whispering skills could have used a little work.

"No, she's a Slytherin." Hermione responded in a stage whisper.

Both Regulus and Pansy made sounds of indignation, before Pansy shot a questioning look towards Regulus, then Hermione herself, who sighed as she realized her social faux pas, "Pansy this is Regulus Black, Sirius' Brother. Regulus, this is Pansy Parkinson, we went to school together."

Pansy shrugged, as if this information was no big deal, "Whatever Granger. Sounds like you have everything you need for a trial run. Except test subjects."

The witch turned around to grab the paperwork necessary for the process to begin, then threw one last question over her shoulder, as if she wasn't entirely sure she was doing the right thing. She must be new, Hermione thought, or she's slow, as Regulus suspected. "— What does this supposed potion do? That might be important..."

Regulus was irritated. This witch was tactless and rude. By pureblood standards she was simply sub par. He assumed she was a pureblood by her name, at least. "The potion is named after a play on the healing effects of both unicorns and phoenixes, it's more of an all purpose miracle potion, from the sounds of it. Designed to revert the drinker to their natural state no matter the original cause."

Pansy nodded, smirking at the man over her shoulder. "I see why you're friends. That was a Granger answer through and through," she said, turning back around to gather paperwork.

"She's not my friend." Regulus snapped.

Pansy chuckled in response, "You're being over protective, Mister Black, just like one of her little friends. That girl and her— boys."

"_She is mine_." He all but yelled, demanding the attention of the insolent wench before him, "I am _not_ just one of her boys. I should hope you can see to it to keep your tongue in cheek from this point forward like a good little girl—lest I let my intended release her ire on you herself!"

He could almost see the roll of the eyes coming, but cut her off with his final words, spoken in a deep, warning tone, "I may be a Black, and thus prone to certain _tendencies_, but I assure you she is many times more frightening than I could ever dream of being."

Despite wanting to assure him it was fine, Hermione kept quiet. If he wanted to be macho then she would let him. For now. Plus, it was fun, she realized, to watch Parkinson squirm.

The former Slytherin girl paled, knowing she had gone too far, but pride kept her from apologizing. Instead, she set the papers down forcefully on the countertop in front of her, face straight and unsmiling. "Sign." She demanded, sounding bored.

Picking up a self inking quill from a conveniently placed cup, Hermione did just that. When Pansy waved her wand to submit it though, nothing happened. "Did you sign your full name?" She demanded, looking over the paper. It looked right, strangely, but obviously something was missing.

"I'm going to need a bigger line," Hermione groaned, only half joking, before putting the quill to the parchment again. "There," she announced, pushing it towards the other witch again.

Pansy looked it over again, eyes growing wide as she went through the exhaustively long series of names. "That's... unexpected." She commented quietly, waving her wand again, this time successfully. "You'll get an owl with specifics for the next step. I'd suggest starting to brew the potion, if you want it to go faster. As much as you can, at least. The more there is the more testing can be done and the less time it will take."

Finished with her speech, the Slytherin girl waved a dismissive hand towards a door that had appeared on the other side of the room. "No one wants to go through the corridor with the ghost... it's just creepy" she said as Percy bounded ahead to open the door, anxious to be free of the constant white environment. As he had opened it, however, an owl flew in, and deposited a familiar type of red envelope in front of her. Pansy gasped,"— oh no!" as the missive opened itself and an angry, drawl assaulted their hearing.

"Pansy! Where are you!? You have to help me!" The unfortunately familiar voice of Draco Malfoy resonated through the room, "The elves have disappeared, father is starving, he's trying to eat the curtains, I swear, and — they're trying to make me cook! Get over here and make me a sandwich to throw at him so I can run away! Uh— I mean, please? HURRY!"

Feeling sorry for the poor girl, because nobody deserved to be at Malfoy's beck and call, Hermione rolled her eyes and cast a patronus, "To Draco Malfoy," she instructed, "Have your mother call Kreacher, he should respond. He can also probably tell you where your elves are. Hint: they're not in Pansy's office, ferret!"

"Thank you," Pansy sighed as the glowing otter swam away, looking like she was biting a lemon she continued, "I was not about to go over there to make a sandwich for Lucius Malfoy, but I also didn't relish the thought of saying no. You didn't have to do that... but I still appreciate it."

Regulus turned to walk through the door, pulling Hermione with him. Just as she turned her back, Pansys voice broke the silence one last time. "Granger?" She called hesitantly.

The curly haired witch looked back, waiting for her to continue.

"Do you think it, the potion that is... do you think it would work on the Mark?" The dark haired girl bit her lip, as if unsure if she should have asked.

Honestly, Hermione hadn't thought about that possible application. She could, however, see the reason the witch was thinking it could work though. Pondering for a moment, over the particular ingredients in the potion and how they may react with the mark itself, she didn't see any reason why it would hurt to test the theory.

In fact, she thought it just might actually work. The dark mark was kind of like spell damage, she supposed. She nodded absently. "It might, actually. You could keep that in mind when they select the test subjects. Although, the trials need more than just those cases to be deemed complete. In my opinion."

Question answered, Pansy nodded briefly, then focused her gaze on the floor, indicating she was done with her line of thought.

Feeling worn out, Hermione followed Regulus through the door, letting herself be led through Saint Mungos to the nearest apparition point, and then from there, home.

————

The group convened in the library once more, Hermione sharing the news with a close eye on a now calm Sirius. Although uncharacteristically straight faced, he took it rather well. Declaring solemnly that he would do all he could to ensure the success of the potion, and the trials, in memory of one of his best friends.

The bright side to all the drama, it turned out, is that everyone understood what Hermione had been trying to say about the process of preparing for the Wizengamot, and researching the bills before voting. You never knew what you'd find to support your side. The downside was that they still asked her to be the representative for their faction, but it was progress, she supposed.

They parted briefly, everyone going their separate ways to prepare for the meeting at the ministry, knowing they were expected to look their best. Reconvening in time to arrive 15 minutes early, at Hermione's insistence.

At the ministry they became aware that they were not the only ones with the idea. Nor were they exactly welcomed with open arms. Not that they expected pomp and circumstance or anything.

Lucius Malfoy, it seemed, had rallied the troops. Greeting his adversaries with a band of merry followers, all producing glares, accompanied by hisses, boos and various slurred insults. "Careful. Line theft and stealing others elves will land you in Azkaban, Miss Granger," he drawled coolly. "We will see you charged!" The faction of former death eaters chanted.

Hermione, however, simply lifted her chin to look into the elder Malfoy's eyes. "Nice to see you too, Lucy! Find your elves yet? Oh, by the way, I must say... I did fancy the mullet more than the atrocious mop on your head currently." And, lifting her left hand in a casual manner, waved as she entered the courtroom regally.

Watching, with more than a small amount of amusement, as his eyes caught sight of the ring on her finger. The one that showed she was a member of, or at the very least intimately associated with, at least one wizarding family, and therefore probably not as guilty as he had previously thought.

His associates noticed too, if the urgent tones of the hushed whispers that followed her into the courtroom were anything to go by.

"Well played," stated Regulus from his place beside her. She simply shrugged in reply, waiting patiently for the festivities to start.

Lords and Ladies, Regents and Heads of Houses, all of the above magical, filed into the courtroom. Several stopping by to introduce themselves, or as was the case of Lady Augusta Longbottom, simply say hello with an accompanying show of support.

The matronly woman growing teary eyed as she laid her hand on Hermione's shoulder.

"I got an owl from Mungo's today... I know it will be a trial, but they seem to think my Frank and his wife will be candidates for a potion you're supporting," She imparted, "It's been so long I hardly remember the last conversation I had with them... but. Well, I'd try anything at this point to end their suffering. One way or another. Please do let me know if you need anything at all Miss Granger." With a gentle squeeze Neville's grandmother walked away, face once again impassive.

Surprisingly, another of her visitors would normally have been firmly in Lucius Malfoy's camp. Yet here was a man that looked startlingly similar to the Slytherin witch she had dealt with at Mungos earlier. "Mr. Parkinson." Hermione said by way of greeting, gracing him with a small smile of encouragement. He would probably suffer within his current social circle for this interaction, small as it may be.

"Miss Granger," he returned, briefly lowering his head. "My daughter visited me this afternoon. She relayed to me a series of events that took place in her office. Thank you for assisting her with her minor problem with that spoiled boy she calls a friend, she was most impressed." He chuckled. "Also, if you wouldn't mind, I would like to partake in the trial she described to me."

He hesitated then, looking into her eyes beseechingly before continuing, "I know we fell on opposite sides of the war, Miss Granger, but it has occurred to me repeatedly since those dark times that these things are not so much black and white as they are shades of grey.

I joined a cause, willingly, thinking it would suit my ideals, however the reality of it was shockingly far from them. I endeavored to keep my family as far from it as I could, but... without going into the gory details, we will just say I have done things I regret immensely.

I would very much like the constant omnipresent reminder of that... man... erased completely from both my person and the world at large."

They stared at each other searchingly for a tense moment, before Hermione opened her mouth to respond. "It sounds like we are in agreement on a number of things, Mr. Parkinson. In fact my friends and I had much the same conversation about the war not so long ago. We too feel we were a bit misguided in our views." She said carefully, stiffening her spine in preparation for her next words. They were a step in the right direction, she believed, but away from the values she had held in the past.

With a final deep breath, she took a step further into the grey, "I will amend the intended trial recipients listed to allow you to participate —should the board at St. Mungos be agreeable to it.

I also believe that there is no such thing as a lost cause, if the person is willing to participate in their own destiny and repentance. However, I caution you, I don't know if it will work for such an application. Or any application at all." She warned, before delivering the proverbial silver lining to the man, "Although an associated potion derived from the original Pegasus Tears potion was tested and proved as useful many years ago for petrification victims.

It's creator was an esteemed potioneer, and had high hopes for this potion, so... I hope it can help you, sir. Even in some small way."

The former Death Eater grinned broadly then, grasping her hand in a firm hold and imparting many words of thanks before scampering off to take his seat. Grimacing at the glares directed towards his person by his former compatriots as Amelia Bones took her place behind the podium, bringing the proceedings to a start.

————

What followed was a series of events not nearly as exciting as they'd thought. Madam Bones would bring a bill before the Wizengamot, then Malfoy or one of his crony's would make a point, Hermione would counter with another viewpoint. Occasionally one of her friends would counter instead, leaving Hermione to play devils advocate if they intended to side with the "dark side". Then it would be put to a vote, and the process began again.

All in all, it wasn't a bad experience, just... time consuming. But it seems they had made a few supporters along the way. Madam Bones even commenting on the "breath of fresh air" that had entered the courtroom. Satisfied they had done their very best in this new world, the group departed the ministry, each headed to their respective homes and beds, where they collapsed exhaustedly, bound for dreamland.


	26. Double, Double, Toil & Trouble

————

**Chapter Twenty-Six**

—

_Double Double Toil and Trouble_

————

Thankful that there was a potions lab in the house, Hermione had begun brewing as soon as she was able. Collecting the ingredients had taken longer than she would have liked, but once she paid Daisy a visit in Avalon it was almost too easy to find everything. Next time, she decided, she would go there first.

Now that everything was properly washed, sorted, diced, cut or otherwise prepared, it was moving along at last! Three more days and the first dozen cauldrons would be ready for bottling, then the testing could finally begin. Three quarters of a century later than originally intended, but Hermione was happy to be able to have a hand in this momentous concoction's entrance to the world at large.

Regardless, the subjects were all lined up. Pansy had been a great help, as well as Kingsley. The former enlisting her father, and two of their old school classmates, notifying Neville's grandmother and getting his parents involved, as well as roping in a couple people who had come down with dragon pox. Kingsley had volunteered Fenrir Greyback, and a few rogue vampires from the depths of Azkaban, and found a couple of people wandering the ministry who had various other complaints that the potion might address.

The twins had suggested Lavender and Bill be given Pegasus Tears too, but they decided to wait until the man who had inflicted both of them with symptoms of lycanthropy was cured. Hermione didn't blame them one bit, after all they were living almost normal lives and the side effects of the new potion were as of yet unknown. She would have done the same.

The timer went off on the current stage of the brewing process, signaling the cauldrons needed to be stirred for the next thirty minutes. Drawing her wand to orchestrate the multiple cauldrons and accessories, Hermione set another timer. Thirty minutes until she could see what kind of madness the rest of the house was getting into.

————

_Meanwhile, in the dining hall of Grimmauld_

—

The boys had decided on playing a game of some sort. Problem was they couldn't make up their minds. Some wanted poker, but they had just had poker night so that was vetoed quickly. Others favored trying to see if they could transfigure a quidditch pitch inside the large room. They could, and did, unfortunately they didn't have enough people, so they were just kind of flying around above the tables aimlessly, narrowly avoiding the floating lights at times.

But then Harry had an idea. "Prinkles!" He shouted, knowing he had seen a whole case in Hermione's room. He summoned a can and tossed it at Sirius, who gladly popped the top. "Ugh, I wish Remus and James could have been here!" He sighed, popping a piece in his mouth. Turning to toss the can to Ron, he did a flip in the air, before he began acting like a ballerina in response to the chip.

"Why'd you call my name?" Ron called to Sirius, as he hovered on his broomstick, wondering what Sirius was doing with his arms and feet while his own broomstick hovered next to him.

Sirius twirled, arms above his head, on his tippy toes, while shooting the redhead a glare, saying "I threw you the can of Prinkles, you didn't catch it?"

Ron widened his eyes, nothing had come at him for him to catch! "Uh, no didn't see 'em...?"

"Harry!" Sirius yelled, "'nother can. Butterfingers lost them. We can have two going, it'll be fun!"

Shrugging, Harry tossed another can to Ron, who opened the can and popped one in his mouth without delay, tossing the can to someone else. It just so happened to be Regulus, who wistfully thought how funny it would be if his best friend could have been there to be irritated during all this foolishness, as he bit into a crisp of his own, and promptly sprouted a very studdly goatee.

The can slipped from his fingers as he went to throw it to Percy, and the two raced down to try and retrieve it. Coming up empty, they simply opened another can and resumed the game.

Thirty minutes and 4 lost cans of Prinkles later, a giddy Hermione Granger walked into the room, having completed the final step of the potion for the day. She laughed at Sirius, spinning about, using his broom as a ballet barre. Again, at Ron's sudden inability to hold anything in his fingers. One glance at Regulus, however, had her blushing profusely.

"You like my goatee?" He preened at her reaction, stroking it as he hovered before her.

She laughed, "Oh, yes dear. I think it suits you. Have you boys been playing without me?" Looking around for the canister, so that she could partake in the excitement, she found it in Harry's hands. He tossed her one, which she managed to catch in her mouth in a stroke of luck.

It wasn't until she had voiced the thought of wanting Harry's mother to be able to see her son now, and blurted our that her first crush had been both Sirius and Remus at the same time, that he put the canister down. The act revealing the pre-production label that was only remaining on a very _specific_ case of Prinkles.

Eyes suddenly wide, and too astonished to be embarrassed at her proclamation, she looked at her first best friend, gasping "Harry... where did you get those Prinkles?"

Harry laughed guiltily, "Saw them in your room the other day, nicked em a few minutes ago...Alright there Mione?" He must have noticed her sudden lack of color.

"How many?" She demanded, thinking furiously. Oh, this was bad! Very bad even.

Not understanding the problem Harry shrugged and responded honestly, "The rest of the case. I mean, I know they're the old ones, but... you only messed with one of them didn't you?" He caught her terrified look and all he could say was,"No...Bloody hell!"

Maybe they opened just the one, and the rest were safely closed somewhere, she thought frantically. Until he continued, shoving his glasses atop his head to rub his eyes tiredly. "We wondered why they kept disappearing... thought we were just going to have a few games going at once and we'd find em when we got around to actually looking. I—"

"What?!" She exploded, "All of them are open and now lost in time?! _Merlin_! At least that one hasn't disapp— nevermind..." the can he had set down moments before was now also gone, "Harry James Potter you are in trouble, and _you_ are going to fix this!"

"Me?!" He gasped, unaware of what possibly made her believe he was capable of such a feat. "How?!" He wondered, hoping she at least had a plan.

Hermione ran her fingers through her hair in frustration. "How indeed..." she muttered. "Regardless, _you're_ going to be the one to tell the Minister."

"I don't know about you guys," Sirius interrupted, prancing over, "but my legs are going to be so built!" He exclaimed, examining them closely.

Despite the uncertainty of the circumstances, that was all it took to reduce everyone in the room to laughter. It also led Hermione to a revelation. "Ginny doesn't speak in riddles anymore!" She shouted, drawing confused looks from everyone present.

"Sorry, I was just thinking," She explained, "The game continues until the lid is put back on after the last crisp is eaten, right? Either the effects wear off after a period of time, or somewhere— uh, somewhen rather— someone has finished the game."

"Probably the later," Fred suggested, rubbing his chin in thought, "none of the other effects ran out until the game ended. Although... we didn't test them on a drawn out time frame... unless..."

"Malfoy." Hermione finished with a frown. She really didn't want to deal with his particular brand of spoiled, not right now. But some things couldn't be helped. This just happened to be one of those things.

Regulus stepped forward, "I'll floo and ask how long their game lasted. My cousin will speak to me without any problems, and I can handle old Lucy." Hermione and George nodded their thanks, grateful to not be stuck with that task.

They watched the dark haired man disappear through the illusionary wall. Both dreading and hopeful of the answer that may be provided upon his return. "How did this happen?" The witch asked aloud, neither wanting nor expecting an answer.

They sat in silence, as the reality of the situation began to set in. At least until Ron began sobbing, loudly, declaring, "I can't eat anything! It just... falls, right out of my hands the second it's about to get to my mouth! How am I going to live like this?" This, apparently, was their new reality.

"Three weeks!" Regulus yelled, running into the room panting. "Lucius and Narcissa had gone on holiday, leaving Draco home alone. He had a canister, thought he would try it out to see how embarrassing it would be before he played with friends... got stuck that way with the canister next to him.

Lucius got a hold of them first when they got home, not knowing what they were, and ate one. Narcissa, who had floo called Theodore when she didn't see Draco, didn't believe Lucius when he said the crisps did that to him. Apparently she thought he was trying to be funny and 'woo' her... so she ate one to prove a point.

Theo showed up just before we did, and discovered Draco, sending Narcissa into an operatic tizzy. He called the Aurors."

Hermione nodded, "And the game showed no sign of its effects wearing off while we were there. Which leads me to believe someone finished the game. Merlin only knows who or when." Standing up, she began to pace.

————

_Emerys Castle_

_—_

Merlin Emerys was sitting in his favorite room, thinking about the state of the world as he knew it. Parchment was strewn about, detailing plans for some get together or another, and he was trying to find a distraction to pass the time so he didn't have to think about it any longer.

His prayers were answered, it seemed, when a strange object appeared before him. He picked it up to examine it, and the scenes began flashing before his eyes. The world as he knew it was no more, in these visions.

A confusing array of visions detailing violence and discord assaulted his senses. He knew without a shadow of a doubt that he had to come up with a plan to save everyone. This future could not be allowed to come to pass.

Upon inspecting the object further, he found it contained one solitary item. Said item appeared to be edible, and smelled decently as well, so he placed it in his mouth and promptly ate it.

Merlin had had no visions up until this very day, but as soon as the food hit his tongue, they started coming hard and fast. He tried in vain to make them stop, but when he couldn't he settled for recording them in a new device he was working in.

Crystal balls laid out in a line, he sat and transcribed every vision so far. 7 in total, before they stopped, for the time being at least. That was it, he decided. He was going to save the world, and now he knew exactly how to do it. "But first", he said to himself, "I need to make sure I make it that far into the future."

Putting the lid back on the strange container, Merlin began to plan. And the rest, as they say, is history.

————


	27. The Best Laid Plans

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**Chapter Twenty-Seven**

—

_The Best Laid Plans_

————

_The Hogshead, February 1980_

—

One did not become a double agent by having a lot of friends and, by extension, a lot to lose. In fact, quite the opposite is true. One becomes a double agent by either having very few friends and little to nothing to lose, or having the wrong friends who know exactly what you value so as to use it against you. Severus Snape was somewhere in the last category.

Although how he ended up with friends at all was a mystery, even to himself. Despite that fact, what friends he had were of great value to him. Which is why at 7:30 pm, in a place such as the Hogshead no less, he found himself very interested in a conversation transpiring before his very eyes. A conversation in which a certain prophecy was being made.

Knowing he was not alone in the venue, as some of his colleagues were nearby, he grasped the fact that he would have to share at least some of the information he overheard, with both sides. Dumbledore had been courting him for the light sides benefit for a while now, but his being here as a witness to this particular event would probably be what he used to cement him into the position he wanted him in.

He would not, he decided, let on that he knew anything about the meaning behind its contents, although he knew more than most. Seeing as this particular prophecy had been made before, by a much more qualified seer and in very much more detail, although it was never formally recorded for the Ministry's records.

"The one with the power to defeat the dark lord," was a subject that they could squabble about for a while. Which would give him time to make a plan and see to its fulfillment, in a safe and timely manner.

Watching the prophecy conclude, Severus felt a trickle of hope fill him. Maybe, just maybe they would make it out of this war alive. He and his small circle of friends. Not that he would ever call them that out loud. Even the insufferable James Potter was growing on him, like some sick kind of disease. He would have to talk to Lilly, and soon.

Between her skills in charms and transfiguration, and his in defense and potions, they should be able to figure something out. Which brought Severus' mind back to what he had come here to learn about. Horcruxes.

His friend Regulus' last known action had been to retrieve one, so it could be destroyed. That night was the last he had seen his friend. That night Severus had also been entrusted with information enough to let him know those particular things were bad news for the entire world.

"I wonder," Severus gasped out, watching Dumbledore and the Trelawny chit leave the dingy diner. "What is the opposite of a Horcrux?"

As he pondered this question, a cylindrical object appeared on his table. Opening the cap he noticed it contained crisps, and instantly threw one in his mouth. Thinking nothing of its sudden appearance because of his current location in a magical diner.

Suddenly he experienced a renewed sense of vigor, needing to move on the idea this very second. The opposite of a horcrux, of course!

He was determined to make it through this war, and only the strongest magic would work in this case. Unfortunately, he didn't know if such a thing had ever been attempted before, so he would have to start at square one. Well... maybe square two, if he were to simply take the instructions for a horcrux and do the exact opposite. At which thought the whole plan came into vivid focus. Now, all he needed was the most in depth instructions for making a horcrux.

Fortunately he had many friends in low places. Ones that would find it a perfectly ordinary thing to have books on in their libraries. Armed with a plan, and wanting to start right away, Severus Snape left the dingy confines of the Hogshead, and apparated away.

————

_Grimmauld Place, Present Day_

—

The last three days had been the longest three days of Hermione Grangers life. Stirring, heating, adding precise measurements of ingredients, stirring, cooling, bottling. And worrying about the renegade game all the while. But the day was finally here to start the trial! And it would be a good day, she decided, if it was the last thing she did!

Loading a dozen owls with packages full of potions, under a featherweight charm of course, Hermione smiled to herself. Being an unspeakable was great, it satisfied all her itches, checked all her boxes, at least for the most part. But this— this was surreal to the studious witch. This was something with a real purpose! She had to admit it was exhilarating. Terrifying, but exhilarating.

Wiping her hands on her potions apron, she watched the owls slowly disappear. She would meet Pansy and the participants at Mungos shortly, but first a change of clothes was in order, she thought. As she walked to her room, however, she noticed that she smelled herself, a hazard of potion brewing. "Nix that," she said to the empty hallway, amending her thought aloud, "first a bath."

She did so quickly, hoping the stench didn't stick in her hair as it used to do in potions class. Then throwing on the white spider silk robe Daisy had given her. It was the most comfortable thing she owned, and it looked rather fetching too! Within the hour she was walking into Mungo's smelling fresh as a Daisy, a spring in her step.

"Good morning ladies!" She greeted the orderlies as she passed, entering the trial department the way Pansy had shown her as to avoid any ghostly drama.

"Morning Miss Granger." They returned cheerily, watching with keen interest as she shouldered the door. Then, taking a deep breath, she officially entered the office that would tell her if her work had been a success— or a failure.

Briefly shutting her eyes she murmured, "happy thoughts, happy thoughts..." in an attempt to stem her nerves.

"Talking to yourself Granger?" A voice drawled from inside the room, destroying any progress her self assurances were making. Malfoy!

She snorted, grinning wryly. "Why hello Chip!" Hermione greeted, answering his sarcastic question frankly, "Yes, I was talking to myself. It's not every day one brews a potion like this, and it's not been tested before, so I'm nervously excited. I assume you remember how I acted in school. Would you prefer that?"

He nodded in response, "No, no. That's quite alright, Granger. Frankly, I'm nervous too... you remember how _I_ was in school." Draco Malfoy laughed nervously, "Seems old habits die hard."

This decent side of Malfoy was throwing her off, but it was much preferable to his usual self. She decided not to question it. "Seems that way," she said instead, turning to survey the room.

Theodore Nott was sleeping in a chair, next to Pansy's father. Neville's parents were in the corner with his grandmother, who was speaking to them in soft soothing tones. Other than that, she didn't know the rest of the people in the room, but she thought it was a good turn out. Of course, Kingsley and some Aurors would be by later with the more... dangerous subjects... when there was no one left to be injured should they start something.

Any moment now Pansy would come to lead her and the patients into their rooms. There, after the potion, the patients would be monitored overnight and, if all went well, released in the morning. Each participant would be responsible for writing logs as to possible side effects and other unexpected but beneficial effects, as well as the time such effects took to manifest. If they were able to, otherwise their caregiver would be the one to do so.

While waiting, Hermione occupied herself with preparing writing materials for her own observations of the patients undergoing the trial, and jotted down any questions she could think of to ask them before, during and/or after taking the potion.

She was so preoccupied that she didn't even notice the two people walking into the room. One of which proceeded to wrap his arms around her, scaring the life out of her. The other was content to watch and laugh.

"Now that you're back in the land of the living, Granger," Pansy said with a smirk, "we can proceed with the trial. Everyone that is able follow me. Everyone else please wait here and you will be assisted momentarily."

Regulus and Hermione were the first two in line. Hermione wanting to see and hear it all, Regulus wanting to support her endeavor to the fullest of his abilities.

Draco was next, dragging a sleepy Theo by the arm. "You here to get rid of the presence on your arm too?" He asked Regulus conversationally.

Regulus smirked, "I quite like the presence on my arm, thank you very much." At which point the other three former death eaters gaped. Hermione took the opportunity to smack him across the back of the head, pulling his sleeve up to reveal the mark on his arm.

"He's here to support me. The great idiot." She huffed, rolling her eyes. "His Mark is a bit different. It's... uh... not evil?"

A clearing throat interrupted the exchange, and left Hermione blushing when she realized they had stopped the whole procession of people. She quickly began moving again, pulling a laughing Regulus with her. "Idiot." She huffed again.

"You love it." He whispered, shooting her a wink.

————

"Malfoy, Nott, Father. This is you," Pansy said stopping at the first room, whispering "good luck," before moving on.

"Dragon Pox cases, across the hall." She pointed, watching as the handful of people made their way into the room, all in various stages of sickness and surrounded by some sort of bubble charm.

A man in a muggle pinstriped suit was escorted into the next room, his entire body a strange neon pink, and his left side significantly more scrawny than his right.

He was paired with a woman with snakes for hair, looking very much like the real life version of Medusa.

Hermione was surprised to see a variety of rodents, sitting patiently on a series of beds inside the room across the hall. "Animangi," Pansy whispered, gesturing at the rabbits, mice, ferrets, and even a squirrel.

They stood by the last door in the hallway, waiting for a moment, until Neville's parents were walked down the hallway. Neville pale and sweaty looking accompanied his grandmother behind them. "Hermione, Regulus," He nodded at them as he passed them, smiling weakly, "Pansy." He added, so as not to appear rude.

"Right then!" Pansy said, mumbling steps to herself, "I think that's everyone for a little bit...the rest will be placed upon arrival. So...Potion time, if you're ready?" At Hermione's brief nod, they walked back to the first room.

————

The occupants of the first room looked up as Pansy entered, followed by Hermione, Regulus bringing up the rear. Three orderlies in standard Mungo's uniforms stood by, awaiting instructions.

"Internally or topically?" Pansy asked, unsure, staring at the vial in her hands as she tipped it slowly side to side. It was thick and gooey looking, flowing slowly in the direction the vial was tilted, jiggling like jello all the while.

Hermione was wondering the same thing. "The Mandrake Restorative Draught was internal, but I'd be interested to see if it works topically too. I say leave it up to them."

"I'm not drinking that slime!" Theodore exclaimed, "Someone rub it on me before I change my mind. I'd like Hermione to do the honors myself, but I see that might not be appreciated." He smirked at Regulus, trying to get under his skin.

Pansy simply grabbed the vial from the orderly and dumped it on his exposed skin, laughing at the expression on his face as the thick, cold liquid made contact with the mutilated mark of a madman. "Rub it in," She demanded, looking at the orderly.

"I'll drink it, I guess?" Malfoy gulped, watching Theo's face trying to decipher what he was feeling. It appeared the other boy was extremely ticklish, making it hard to tell what was happening.

"Half and half?" Pansy's dad said, quirking an eyebrow. "That way you can see all three variations." Hermione nodded, smiling appreciatively, having not thought of that option.

Regulus suddenly looked panicked, trying wordlessly to get the attention of the girls. Finally he grabbed his witch bodily, and pivoted her to look where he was looking. Theodore's arm was emitting a thick black smoke as he screamed soundlessly.

Hermione was writing furiously, eyes not leaving the man. As they watched, his skin began to bubble, blobs of black ink pooling on top of the skin before falling to the ground in splotches that revealed they were not black at all, but a viscous blood red. It looked like some sort of a horror movie, happening right before their eyes.

Turning her head she noted Malfoy was still sitting there as if nothing was changing. Pansy's father's arm was also smoking, although he appeared to be in significantly less pain once the ink-blood began its escape from his arm, running down his arm in trails rather than puddles.

"Oh!" Malfoy shouted suddenly, scratching at himself frantically. "It feels like bugs are in my arm!" He exclaimed, as his skin appeared to move of its own accord, looking for all the world like there were bugs in his arm, moving up his shoulder as if trying to find a way to escape their host. "Get then out, get them out!" He begged raggedly, terrified, as smoke began to stream out his mouth. He closed his mouth and it came out his nose, and then his ears as well.

The movement had reached his shoulder now. The orderly tracking it with a charm that looked a lot like real time, holographic X-ray from a muggle sci-fi. "We may need to intervene," she cautioned, "if it heads toward his heart. Saw a lot of this after the war, people messing with the marks, trying to remove them wound up dead from a failsafe... we were helpless to counter it."

They watched with rapt attention, hoping for the best but expecting the worst. "Don't let me die!" Malfoy pleaded, "Granger, Hermione, I know I was a right idiot to you growing up... but please! Don't let me die for my shortcomings!"

"I'm not going to sit back and watch Malfoy. I have every intention of you making it through this." She said, addressing him directly, and full of conviction. "You're right, you were a bloody fool when we were younger. But— we both know you have a good side. You knew it was us the snatchers had, and you lied to their faces."

"I watched you be tortured!" He yelled, "In my fucking drawing room. I just stood there! Watching. You'd have every right to do the same, it would be bloody karma at its best."

She stopped him with a harsh look. "I knew good and well you couldn't have done a damned thing, Draco. We would have both died that day!" She spat, "Your maniacal Aunt Bellatrix loved no one but herself and her master. Everyone else was expendable." Taking a deep breath to calm herself, she continued quietly, "I however am in no such position. I can and will help you to the best of my abilities."

He nodded, face contorted in agony. "I always loved that fire in your eyes Granger." He chuckled despite the pain. "Best damned competition I ever had in classes too."

"Same!" Theo pitched in, looking pale nearby. He appeared to be through the worst of it. The ink-blood dropping slower and slower, skin, having stopped it's boiling roll, now looking clean of its former blemish, although a startling bright red color. As if it had been scrubbed far too hard in piping hot water.

Mr. Parkinson as well was looking better, his skin a healthy creamy color, yet still leaking slightly. He appeared to be suffering no ill effeCT's, although he claimed to be a bit dizzy and nauseous. Most likely from his body being in a state of shock due to the sudden removal of the mark.

"Miss Granger." The orderly called, drawing her attention back to the man in front of her. "We need to do something," stated plainly, "Now!"

"Put a half vial of the potion on his arm." Hermione ordered, thinking. Mr. Parkinson was clearly the one having the easiest time of things, "Have Mr. Nott swallow the other half." The two remaining orderlies swooped into action. One divided it, handing one potion to Theo, and pouring the other on Malfoy's arm so the other orderly could rub it in.

"It's still moving," said the woman with the image in front of her, keeping them updated. She sighed a little, "still moving, but slowing." They all watched with bated breath, as the blobs got slower and slower before Draco turned a disturbing shade of puce, and demanded a rubbish bin, gagging violently.

All at once, the blobs joined into one massive blob on the image. Regulus grabbed Hermione, turning her head into his shoulder as a loud retching noise filled the room. A body hit the floor. Hermione sagged in Regulus' arms.

"Pansy!" Yelled Mr. Parkinson, before rushing over to where his daughter had fainted on the floor.

Hermione lifted her head, hopefully, just as Malfoy's weak voice declared, "that was the most disgusting think I've ever had the displeasure to experience."

"Thank Merlin!" Hermione whispered, relief filling her veins, "He'll live to torment us another day."

Regulus cast a renervate towards Pansy, as Malfoy chuckled, "I heard that Granger."

"You were meant to." She said seriously, wiping tears from her eyes, wrapping her arms around Regulus tightly, peering over his shoulder to look at the man who had tormented her during their youth, "I'm glad you're not dead."

"Me too..." The blond man sighed tiredly, "Me too."

Theo, not enjoying being ignored from mere feet away, yelled, "Oy, I'm alive too!"

"We see that," Pansy said dryly, rubbing her head. "Congratulations Theodore, you have passed the test."

His eyes lit up, "Is there a prize?"

"He's feeling better," Pansy commented to Hermione, who was still taking notes. Turning to Theo she smirked, "Yes Theo, you've passed the practical portion of the test, now you get to move on to the written! Yay!"

Hermione barked out a laugh as she moved to the doorway. "We have more potions to administer," she reminded the dark haired witch. "Dragon pox, here we come," she announced as they departed, leaving the three former death eaters to recover in some semblance of peace and quiet.

————

The people in the room across the hall were given the potion by a series of orderlies, all in protective gear, while Hermione, Pansy and Regulus were spelled into a large bubble charm. Regulus occupied himself by poking the vaguely liquid-like barrier, while Hermione took notes, and Pansy simply observed.

"Administering the potion internally?" The head orderly asked.

Hermione appeared thoughtful, "There are nine cases here...One group with internally, one with half a dose of each internal and external, the final only external. Try to get one of each for the different stages if you can?"

The orderly nodded and gave directions to his co-workers. They administered the potions and the process began, albeit more slowly than before. Each orderly monitored a patient via an imaging spell, keeping track of progress and calling out changes as they happened.

Predictably, the mild cases were first to show improvement, as there was less to heal. The internal dose, once again resulted in retching, as the virus expelled itself from the poor afflicted girl.

The externally applied potion, slathered on areas most affected by the virus, saw the wounds manifest and weep out externally. It happened rather rapidly at that, the middle aged man looking nauseous from being covered in pus, but otherwise unaffected.

Once again the person with the potion applied both topically and administered orally fared the best. The elderly woman sitting calmly as the virus simply dissolved, very small amounts being coughed up harmlessly or expelled through her skin in what was akin to a greenish, yellow sweat.

The moderate cases were sure to be the same, although slightly more severe. At the last minute Hermione and Pansy conferred with the head orderly and decided to give those that had taken the potion undivided half a dose of potion the other way. In order to reduce unpleasant side effects. All three recipients having the same reaction, a fairly easy bout of coughing and perspiration, before the worst was over.

The severe cases were treated the same way, as the moderate cases. Although, when it appeared that the extra half dose was not sufficient, an additional half dose was administered. This modification eased the side effects both immediately and immensely. Hermione was sure to note this down before leaving the patients to recover, following Pansy and Regulus into the next room.

————

The neon man and Medusa, as Hermione had taken to referring to her, had both suffered from charms accidents. The room also held two additional people who had arrived while they watched the proceedings in the previous two rooms. The newcomers had severe scarring from various dark curses.

After a long winded discussion, it was decided to treat the charmed patients internally as the damage was widespread. The scarring patients would be treated externally, because the damage was confined to specific areas.

First up was the charmed pair. The entire group watching as their bodies slowly, but surely returned to normal, one shade or strand of hair at a time. Next, the potion was applied to the cursed scars, and they faded away but painful symptoms still persisted in the one who had been cursed with the same spell Hermione had suffered from at Dolohov's hands.

Shakily, Hermione ordered the orderly to administer a half dose internally to the poor man. She knew his pain all too well. If she hadn't been healed by the ceremony with the stone, she thought, it may well have been her on the next bed. To her immense relief, the man's pain vanished quickly, along with the residual internal scarring.

With nothing further to do in that room but wait to see how the side effects and symptoms played out, the trio headed into the room that housed Neville's parents.

————

The room full of animangi in various states of transformations was by far the hardest yet. How does one convince a mouse to take a potion? In the end it all came down to a creative use of magic. This trial was the easiest on the patients, pain and suffering wise. There simply was none.

Hermione, Regulus, Pansy and the orderlies just watched as the potion convinced the patients bodies that reverting to normal was a good thing. And suddenly, they were changing back into their human selves.

Upon preliminary examinations, it appeared they still suffered from severe muscle cramps, and about half of them had headaches and dizziness. All that was left to do was let the orderlies monitor them overnight.

————

Preliminary testing had revealed no external damage to the Longbottom's, so Hermione was fairly certain that external application of the potion would be pointless. Still, she had the assisting orderlies keep a couple vials on hand, just in case.

She briefly walked Neville and Lady Augusta through a hypothesis of what they may be about to expect, based on the other trials participants. While none of it sounded pleasant, it also didn't sound life threatening, so they were given the go ahead to administer the doses.

With baited breath, the occupants of the room waited. Ten minutes later there was still no discernible change. Twenty minutes after that both Alice and Frank Longbottom fell asleep. Within the hour there was no change.

Neville stood, and exited the room briskly. The door slammed as he strode out. "Let him go," his grandmother whispered, as Hermione rose to follow her friend. "He just needs some air. It's not been easy on Neville since his parents wound up here, but it's been harder yet to imagine them being gone for good with no hope."

They heard a gasp from one of the orderlies, and looked up quickly. But were once again disheartened to see that nothing had visibly changed. "The imaging," the orderly said, "it's changing. There's now increased brain activity— well, frankly, all over." She described, continuing to give updates as she saw the, "The scar tissue within the brain is shrinking."

Coughing alerted them to what was about to happen, with enough time to warn the orderly to grab a bucket before a mess was made by Mr. Longbottom. That having occurred is what led to Hermione requesting an additional dose of potion be rubbed onto Mrs. Longbottom, who had not begun to cough or retch yet, concentrating on her face and neck. The areas closest to the damage that were not covered in hair.

Alice began to cough, and sweat profusely. Her eyes moving rapidly under her lids. She started to moan and groan, writhing in discomfort on the bed. This went on for almost an hour, during which time Neville had returned. And then, with a gasping breath, Alice opened her eyes, panting heavily.

She stared at Neville, recognition and confusion flaring in her eyes. She looked between her son and her husband, lying prone in the bed next to her. "Frank?" She asked, looking at Neville.

"It didn't work." Neville sighed dejectedly.

The woman on the bed gasped, "Augusta!...is that... my baby?! Neville?"

Hermione, tears in her eyes, nudged her fellow Gryffindor towards his mother. "Be brave." She whispered, and watched as he embraced the woman before him for the first time.

"Something is happening," the orderly stated, watching the imaging closely. Unlike Alice, the internal poison created by the curse meeting the cure hadn't made its way out of his system. Instead, it had formed a puddle of liquid in his brain. A puddle which was not moving, or dissipating at all.

Hermione gasped. "External dose, now," she ordered. The orderlies complied, and almost immediately he began to expel the liquid through his pores. Soon, he too was being embraced by his loved ones.

Regulus laid a hand on Hermione's shoulder. She clasped her own on top of it, smiling up at him. "Have I mentioned how brilliant you are, today?" He asked, pressing a kiss to the top of her head. "I'm so bloody proud of you. Proud, and intimidated, and amazed."

She smiled, elated at both how the events played out and his words. "I love you. You can stop sucking up now."

"Never," he grinned leading her through the door and into the hallway. At which point he wrapped her tightly in his arms and just stood there enjoying the feel of her.

"Now you get to change the most rabid werewolf and a group of sadistic vampires human." Kingsley announced loudly in lieu of a greeting. The couple jumped from their embrace, so quickly Hermione would have fallen flat on her bum if Pansy hadn't walked out the door at the same moment to break her fall. Instead, they both landed on the floor in a heap of laughter.

"I know you like me Granger, but no need to fall all over me," The Slytherin girl joked in an uncharacteristic moment of humor.

Chuckling, Hermione stood, and offered a hand to her former enemy. "Sorry, can't help it. You're just too darn attractive."

"Cut it out you two," Regulus said, rolling his eyes, "We've got a puppy to declaw."

That was all it took for the two girls to start moving, rushing to catch up to the Minister, who had already started walking.

————

Fenrir Greyback was shackled to a bed, alone in a room in a place he had never been before. He wouldn't say he was scared, no, he was more angry. Not that he didn't like a change of scenery, or anything. It was indeed fantastic to be out of the musty, dark, dementor infested prison. But he wasn't above looking a gift horse in the mouth.

They wanted something, or they were going to do something to/with him. Those were the only two options. They wouldn't kill him, he knew, because they could have let the dementors do that in his tiny cell in Azkaban. It would just be cruel to pull him out of Hell only to send him to meet his end.

The man that had become minister was escorting him, though so they were either making an example of him, or they thought he could be useful. He doubted the later, and this close to the full moon they would be stupid to push him. Tonight he would turn, and he would gladly bathe in the blood of any and all people stupid enough to be around him.

Fenrir was so lost in his thoughts that he didn't even hear the Minister of Magic walk into the room. In fact, he didn't even notice the wand pointed at him until he had already been hit by the petrificus totalis spell. Only the fact that he was chained to the chair kept him upright.

"Ok" said a very familiar curly haired witch walking into the room, "we go both applications right away this time, werewolf bites are external, leaving a scar that retains the mutations. It spreads rapidly internally too, so we had better go all out the first time." She spoke, looking him over, the the mudblood Granger girl, while smiling, said a phrase the werewolf would never have thought could even come out of her mouth, "Not that I wouldn't enjoy watching him suffer."

That was supposed to be his line. He was the scary one. Not this tiny little girl who had a man stun him before her attack! Bracing himself, he prepared for anything the little witch could throw at him. He was not, however prepared to have some slimy substance smeared all over his body, while more of what he presumed to be the same thing was spelled down his throat.

She apparently noticed him staring at her, as she smiled a chillingly excited smile, saying "Hello Greyback, it's been a while. Don't you worry, we are going to fix you up just as good as new," in that sickly sweet voice of hers.

Distantly, he heard another person calling out results from some kind of test they were doing on him. "I've never done scans on a werewolf before," the voice said in a tone of disbelief, "it's _amazing_. I can see everything. It's affected him on a cellular level! I can see the changes in his bones, his blood, everything!"

Yes, thought Fenrir, werewolves are amazing— I am amazing— Let me out of this charm and I'll show you just how amazing.

Oh, how he couldn't wait for the sun to go down and his lady, the moon, to come out to play. This was going to be magnificent, he could almost feel it's pull right now. On second thought, he did feel the moon, it was coming! He ached to change. Just as he thought he was going to get the chance, someone shouted a stupify and the only thing he knew was darkness.

Hermione slumped in relief as the werewolf was stupefied. How could she have forgotten about the full moon being that night?! He had been seconds from beginning the change, for all she knew it would continue regardless of the spell currently holding him. The good news, she thought, is that the orderly already sees the changes occurring.

Instead of sprouting hair, as in normal transition, he was emoting wisps of some strange silver almost liquid like gas. He was shaking. The bite mark on the man was bubbling, trying to heal itself. The imaging spell was showing his blood appearing to boil. The spells holding the man down broke, and he jumped up, attempting to flee whilst having some kind of internal battle with his inner wolf. He was stopped only by the thin chain of silvery metal that would have been no match, strength wise, against a werewolf.

"Go?!" He roared, "Where are you _going_ wolf?! It's time to come out and play, we have a very naughty witch who needs some punishment, badly!" It became apparent he blamed Hermione above the others, as he had seen her take charge of the orders.

Greyback's amber eyes settled on her form, swirling between that and a contrasting grey color, that may have been the one he was born with. The liquid smoke began pouring out faster then, forming a cloud around the man. "What did you do to the wolf, witch?" He growled lowly, eyes full of rage, pulling against his only remaining restraint.

Hermione remained tightlipped, not wanting to enrage the man further now that he was no longer restrained fully. She watched as the mist began to take a form, congealing into what appeared to be a wolf, growing more solid by the second. It regarded her briefly, coming to stand directly in front of her, sniffing her. She could feel it's breath on her cheek.

"My wolf!" Fenrir gasped, reaching out as if trying to pull it back into himself, but jerking away at the viscous growl the emitted from the beasts mouth. He whimpered then, a pitiful sound from such a large, hardened man, whispering brokenly, "What have they done to you?" And falling limp to the floor, as the ghostly wolf turned away from him. It's glowing amber eyes landing once more on Hermione as it briefly licked her cheek, before turning towards where the sun would surely been in the sky by now and howling. It burst, in a magnificent show of light, silver and amber beams streaming from its body in what appeared to be a direct path, through the ceiling, towards the awaiting moon.

"Be free." Hermione whispered to the apparition, as it departed. Glancing only briefly at the shell of a man it left lying on the floor, moaning 'my wolf... my wolf... it's gone... my wolf'.

Kingsley and an unfamiliar Auror pulled the man from the floor. He was in such a state of shock and disbelief that he put up no resistance at all. "Congratulations Mr. Greyback," the Minister said gently, "you are the first wizard to ever have been cured of lycanthropy."

They removed him to the ministry, where they would be holding him during his recovery. "We will talk tomorrow about your options,"The minister stated magnanimously, just before they disappeared from view, "Obliviation or continued incarceration with options for parole after therapy." The former werewolves whimpers and moans seeming to echo forever in the room.

Pansy Parkinson, who had stayed silent during the former events, blew out a heavy breath. "That was..." she trailed off, not knowing the words to accurately describe what she had just witnessed.

"Terrifying?" Regulus stated bluntly, patting the girl awkwardly on the back, "Awesomely terrifying, like a train wreck in reverse." The dark haired girl nodded, as the orderlies began to exit the room.

As the trio made their way to the room housing the vampires, Pansy started to lag behind. A look of anxiety crossed her face. Regulus noticed first, quirking an eyebrow questioningly in her direction, as Hermione was too lost in her thoughts to do anything. "I...what if..." the dark haired girl stammered, "Fenrir got free, almost got free I mean... there are more of them than us..."

Regulus walked forward to the room housing the blood sucking miscreants, and peered through a crack in the door. "They're restrained, not magically." He shrugged, "but you're more than welcome to go see to your father and friends, if you're _scared_."

The girl barked out a laugh. "I'm not scared... plus, it's my job to oversee this thing." She explained, stiffening her shoulders. "This is the first trial I've ever done. I'm not allowed to simply run off. But I am allowed to be apprehensive in the face of beasts that consider me a form of sustenance." Pansy raised her head regally, and marched into the room.

"There's the Gryffindor spirit," Regulus mocked as she passed. Pansy simply raised a finger, saying more than she could ever hope to convey politely with words. Following her lead, he led Hermione into the room. Finally, he thought, the last trial of the day.

————

Being vampires, the creatures inside were naturally viscous. Needing no full moon, they were to be considered dangerous at all times. The group decided to simply watch this time, giving the orderlies the same orders they had for Fenrir.

As they watched, two full doses were administered to the vampires. One topically, the other orally via magic. The half dozen vampires were venomous after all.

The potions effects progressed rapidly this time. The beasts quickly turning from pale to peach, then to whatever skin tone they naturally possessed. No screams or cries of pain assaulted their ears, so it appeared as if the application was finally correct.

No one vomited, although the coughing was abundant. The strangest part about this portion of the trial was the mist. Like in Fenrir's process, it came out a strange liquid like fog, although it was not silver and there was no animal form. This mist simply floated in the air, a blood red color that made all the room appear to be coated in the same color of light.

Quickly, the orderlies cast a bubble charm, as not to breathe it in, and Hermione was quick to do the same for the three of her group. The closest orderly to the patients, though, had already breathed it in and rapidly started becoming aggressive.

Vampirism, apparently, did not like being reversed. Subduing the man via magic, Hermione ordered one of the man's co-workers to give him a dose of the potion. Hoping to end this reaction and whatever it may have been leading to. The man was restrained like the vampires regardless of the outcome, they had to be sure safety was a priority.

With no further distractions, Hermione returned to taking her detailed note taking. She made her way around the room, asking every man, woman and in one case, child, that she passed various questions. Names, birthdates, how long they'd been vampiric, pain level and the like. She was surprised at several of the answers.

The child, for starters, was over a hundred years old. He had been turned around the age of 7, but didn't recall how, why or who had done it. All he knew was that he had been so angry for so long, and now he was getting a second chance at the life he had been robbed of. He reported no pain, only thankfulness, and the strange sensation of feeling his own heart beat again.

The only woman was younger than the child, having been turned 50 years ago by a rogue vampire near her family's rural home. She was crying for the loss of her former life, her current one, and at the prospect of having to start over again. It seemed she had made quite a name for herself among her now former people.

Several of the men were outraged. Claiming to have been born vampires, Hermione didn't know how possible that scenario was. But they insisted the were at least 450 years old each, one even claiming to be 627 years old!

The rest were relatively new recruits, within the last ten to twenty years. They ranged in age from 18 to 60. All in all they showed gratitude for this development, as well as remorse for things they remembered doing.

Only one in the whole group promised retribution. The tall, dark, handsome one that claimed to be older than the rest, saying he was some sort of a vampire prince and that his family would seek vengeance for this wrong against himself and his people.

Honestly, Hermione had stopped listening long ago, simply nodding, and pretending he was a taller version of the Malfoy she knew from her school days. It worked surprisingly well.

"I'm glad that's over," she breathed, walking from the room. Her and Regulus walking Pansy to the room housing her father and friends before turning to go home after the long day.

They had only made it halfway down the hallway when Pansy came running out of the room. "_Hermiiiiioneeeee_!!!" she yelled, breathlessly, as she fought to catch up to the witch. An unfathomable look had taken residence upon her face, her eyes burning with determination. Grabbing her former classmates arm, desperately, she gasped, "Hermione... we have one more!"

————


	28. Inexplicably, Unexpectedly, Surprisingly

————

**Chapter Twenty-Eight**

—

_Inexplicably, Unexpectedly, Surprisingly_

————

_5 June, 1980, Malfoy Manor_.

—

They had done it! —At least they thought they had. Severus had managed to track down the spell to create a horcrux. Lily had then come up with a spell, based on the original, that was exactly the opposite. They theorized that instead of taking a life to make the anticrux spell, this spell would need the opposite. A birth.

James believed that, based on a book he had seen in his parents library, assisting with a birth would work, so long as you were able to harvest some tissue. He and Lilly planned to try it out with the birth of their child, so that Lilly could be protected, no matter what. But that wasn't supposed to be for another couple months, and Severus was tired of waiting.

When the owl came, alerting him that Narcissa Malfoy was in labor, and requesting his urgent help and the best made potions he had, he couldn't resist. This is how Severus Snape found himself in the Birthing Suite at Malfoy manner, arm deep in goop, a piece of placenta shoved hastily in his pocket after cutting the cord.

When he was requested as godfather of this tiny, bald, wrinkly— thing, Severus took it upon himself to perform the spell, telling the parents it was a variation of a spell to bring luck and prosperity on the new baby. And by its wording it might have been, at least to any casual observer. As luck would have it, the glow of the spell leaving his wand had covered both him, and the sniveling being in his arms. Which only served to further his story.

Weeks passed, and James Potter, named godfather to one Neville Longbottom, was in the room upon the birth of the boy. He was able to complete the spell for himself, using the same excuse Severus had with the Malfoy's. Luckily, they had discovered that the spell protects both the caster and the child, due to an unfortunate mishap with a peacock at Malfoy Manor the week prior. Nevertheless this child in particular happened to be the other suspected subject of the blasted prophesy, so it was a welcome coincidence.

The very next day, on July 31, 1980, Harry James Potter entered the world. His mother, having physically birthed the child, had the most spectacular results of all. When the spell was cast the glow surrounding the mother and babe lasted almost a full day, and was the most peculiar shade of green. Just a shade lighter than that of the killing curse, which was a very strange coincidence in and of itself.

————

_St. Mungos, present day_

—

She really just wanted to go home. Her hand was cramping, from all the writing. Her brain was hurting, from all the thinking. Her nerves were absolutely shot, from all of it! The smile on Hermione's face was about as forced as they came when she turned to face the Slytherin witch that had called out to her while she was just trying to get home with what little bit of grace she had left.

"What do you mean there's one more?" Hermione gritted out, trying to force herself to keep the smile on her face.

If Pansy noticed her expression was not genuine she didn't mention it. Although, she didn't look too put together herself at the moment. "Professor Snape," she whispered,"Malfoy just told me. He's at the manor. Hasn't woken since the final battle, but the healers say there's nothing wrong that can be fixed. Well, they don't know what's wrong!"

Regulus had dropped everything in his arms, namely all Hermione's carefully sorted notes and supplies, her bag, and some random snacks he had acquired somewhere or another. "Sev? He's alive?!" He gasped out, "What are we waiting for? Let's go Hermione! —uh, I mean... can we please go save my best friend with your ancestors carefully brewed miracle potion?"

Hermione sighed wishing she were anywhere but where she was, when suddenly, inexplicably, surprisingly... nope, still there. She shrugged, resigning herself to her fate for just a few moments longer. "Let's do this?" She asked, fake smile back on her face.

Suddenly, inexplicably, surprisingly, in that moment in the middle of a normal hallway in a normal wizarding hospital, the almighty Hermione Granger became normal to her one time enemy Pansy Parkinson. And that made all the difference.

Pansy withdrew her wand, summoning a potion and handing it to the witch with a grim smile, saying "I know you're exhausted, Hermione, I am too. And while he can probably last another day after all this time, I'd really like to try sooner rather than later." Then she seemed to have an epiphany, "Would you rather he be brought here? I could see how the Manor could be too much for you right now. After all the excitement today."

Three things happened then. Suddenly, the fake smile became a lot less forced. Hermione inexplicably nodded her head. And then, unexpectedly, she agreed to heal the least favorite teacher she had ever had the displeasure to learn from.

"Bring on the dungeon bat." She declared, gulping down the potion greedily. "There's no time like the present." Regulus and Pansy vanished almost instantly, apparating to Malfoy Manor to retrieve the man they were both quite fond of, despite his snarky, sarcastic demeanor.

Draco Malfoy, leaning against the doorway to his room for the night, had witnessed this exchange in its entirety. He watched as Hermione pulled herself together for a little bit longer, determination coming back into her eyes.

Suddenly, he had the urge to comment, and not inexplicably so, as Draco Malfoy always listened to his urges.

"You're different than I expected." He stated bluntly. She tensed briefly, and he rushed to continue. "I always thought you were this... enigma. So strong, so brave, so... good. At everything! Now, I'm not saying you're not those things, because you undoubtedly are... sometimes to a fault, no offense." He chuckled, raising his hands, "But I realized just now you're so much more than that. You're real, and human, and unexpectedly similar to myself." He shook his head, "I don't know why that's still so hard to admit."

Hermione laid a hand on his arm, "I completely get the feeling. I've been having these revelations a lot lately. It's fairly disconcerting, to say the least. Nothing is how I believed it was, how I was told it was, it's not how I knew it to be either. Everything has changed!" She ended passionately, "I know now I was wrong, about so many things, and I'm just...a little more lost, yet a little more found too."

He nodded in understanding, letting a comfortable silence fill the hallway as they waited for the return of their friends. Just before they did, however, Draco made one final remark. "I was wrong too Granger, about a lot of things."

————

_Malfoy Manor_

_—_

Regulus has never seen his friend so still. He didn't even appear to be breathing and he was so cold! He worried for a moment that they had missed their chance.

Lucius, however, assured him that their compatriot was alive. Well, maybe alive would have been too strong of a term.

The healers had said it looked like he had taken Draught of Living Death. The symptoms had matched almost exactly, but the antidote had done nothing. He was dead by every definition of the word, yet here he was years later, unchanged.

Lucius then pointed to a mark on the floor, one that matched a mark both his son and his friend shared. Severus' mark had faded slightly, yet did not disappear. Draco's, however, had grown darker than it had ever been. "There was some ritual, performed on the day Draco was born. Severus said something about luck and protection, but I've searched for years and found no mention of even a part of the incantation he used." He confessed.

"It's as if... as if they share a life force to some extent. One is able to carry the other through the gravest of circumstances. Draco should have died twice so far. Once, as an infant, the other when he was a toddler.

The first time, one of the elves had pushed Draco, in his pram, out to get some fresh air. I had just gotten a set of peacocks and we had no idea what to expect. The elf went to fetch something or other, leaving him alone for the briefest of time, while Narcissa and I enjoyed a walk around the grounds. We happened to be passing by, and noticed the bird in the pram with our son. It was sitting on him, all but covering him up.

When we got the blasted thing to move, he was oddly stiff, his lips were a shade of purple I'd never seen again... until I saw Severus after the battle. We feared the worst... but luckily he survived. That's the first time we noticed— well, Severus noticed and mentioned— the marks.

His whole Draco has been fascinated with my peacocks, despite that unfortunate occurance. When he was a toddler, he chased them all over constantly... one day he managed to leave the Manor, to follow the birds, and he fell into the pond. The second time my son should have died.

He was under water— for far longer than I'd like to admit... when we found him he... we thought..." the man paused, as if reliving the day, then continued brokenly, "His mark was almost gone, it was so faint... and Severus', he told me later that night, had become twice as dark as it was before.

Severus showed up, renervated him, I think, it's been so long I don't quite remember in great detail, but Draco was good as new. Like nothing ever happened.

The marks went back to normal. Until the day of the battle... I'm convinced that as long as that mark exists, Severus is not truly gone."

Regulus' eyebrows were about to his hairline by that point. He knew a lot of obscure magic, but this was new even to him. Regardless, he owed it to his friend to try. Even if nothing changed, he needed to at least try. "I hope you're right Lucius. Truly." He said, rolling the bed containing Severus Snape into the hallway where an anxious Pansy Parkinson was waiting.

She stiffened as she saw the man in the bed, corpselike in his stillness. "Oh... I..." she mumbled, giving up on what she was trying to say and instead just shaking her head, saying, "Let's get this over with." Before apparating them directly into the hallway they had exited from at St. Mungo's.

Hermione was there in an instant. Checking the state of her former professor. "He looks dead." She stated bluntly, frowning. "Let's hope this potion is the miracle you think it is, looks like he's going to need one."

Regulus explained Lucius' theory and Hermione reacted about like he had, raising her eyebrows impossibly high. "That man, always coming up with spells and being secretive about it." She muttered, following as Pansy wheeled the bed into the room with her friends and father, "So he's with people he knows," she explained, uncorking a vial of potion and beginning to apply it to areas they knew he had been injured in the battle, making sure to get his mark while she was at it. Hermione used magic to give him an internal dose as well, since they had no idea what caused this state of unconsciousness.

The man began to glow a sickly green color. His mark emitted the black smoke and began to weep the same blood like liquid as the other three had. The small blessing was that he was unconscious and therefore not in any great amount of pain.

The first clue that the potion was working was the moment that he sneezed, expelling a thick white substance. Then his toes twitched beneath the sheet. His eyes, still closed, moved rapidly beneath his lids.

For over an hour, they watched, as nothing more happened. But suddenly his cheeks began to pink, and, with a great gasping breath, Severus Snape sat straight up in the bed he had laid in since the day of the final battle.

His eyes zeroed in on Regulus, then, making note of the expanse of white surrounding them he drawled, "Death has a sense of humor, putting her here." before staring in Hermione's direction.

Hermione only laughed, biting out, "Sorry, sir, but you're not dead." He looked back at Regulus then, a questioning look in his eyes, before blinking rapidly to see if his friend would disappear. "Regulus had an... Uh...ill timed potions mishap? We will call it that, and wound up in a secret alcove in the library at Grimmauld, under the influence of Draught of Living Death."

"Someone needs to shut this girl up," Severus yawned, beginning to shiver as the black smoke and a new, dark green sweat poured out of his body as the potion continued its work. "What is going on, where am I?"

Regulus stepped forward then, putting a hand on Hermione's shoulder in a show of support. "You are at St. Mungo's, Sev." He answered first, before addressing the hard bit. "This girl, as you call her, has managed to bring you back from the closest thing to death I've ever seen. A feat Lucius' private healers have been attempting for years. Unsuccessfully, might I add."

Draco held a mirror up, so his godfather could see what was happening to his dark mark, which was entirely gone, save for some minor redness. Redness that was disappearing before his very eyes."

"I see..." he drawled, slowly, before gasping, "The horcrux, the snake bit me! It... it worked!"

It was hard to tell who was more confused by that statement. Everyone bore similar looks of blankness. "What worked, sir?" Hermione asked softly.

"Lilly, James and I came up with a spell. An original, it was the exact opposite of the spell to make a horcrux. We called it the anticrux. I..." He suddenly looked at Regulus. "You caused this to be possible, you know. Telling me about those dark things, and making me think about this possibility."

He broke off in a fit of coughing, before sneezing once more. The oozing blood and sweat was coming out in smaller and smaller quantities by now, and the smoking had all but stopped. "This is disgusting," he complained. "But not entirely unappreciated, Miss Granger. I always knew you'd do great things in life."

"You have no idea," Regulus replied. "But don't ask now. Get some rest Sev. We have to get home, it's been a long day for us, but we will be back tomorrow."

Severus, being a smart man, narrowed his eyes at his dark haired friend. "We are going home? You and Parkinson, we? Or you and...her... we?" He asked suspiciously, "Or all three of you?"

"We are all going home." Hermione answered, using quite possibly the rudest tone she had ever used towards a professor. "Pansy works here, so she will be back tomorrow... presumably bright and early. Regulus and I will stop by at some point, Regulus probably to see you. I however am involved in the trial of a new potion, we are testing here. Congratulations on being part of it, by the way. You just missed your old buddy Fenrir, by the way."

"What was wrong with him?" Snape snapped, flaring his nostrils at the assumption of friendship between that beast and himself. "Does your miraculous potion cure attitude problems? If it does, it didn't work for me."

Hermione barked out a laugh, "Obviously, sir. He had a little problem called lycanthropy."

"Had?" He replied shortly. Pinching the bridge of his nose at her brisk nod. "It appears you did passably well after all, Miss Granger. As much as it pains me to admit."

Regulus snorted, "You were dead Sev. It appears to be more than passable." He corrected his friend, "Although I am more than a little biased, seeing as we live together and she's wearing my ring... so play nice, or don't, your call. I'm keeping her regardless."

"You forgot that you're wearing her Mark, and it healed you from the dark lords mark." Draco added, helpfully, causing his godfather to choke on air.

He glared at Hermione. "Foolish girl!" He spat, what have you done? Are you trying to take over where the halfblood left off?"

"Of course not! I'm definitely not trying to take anything over— although I'd make a fantastic leader. Regulus participated in a ritual with me and another person, it wasn't even my idea." She said hurriedly, before her eyes hardened and she continued waspishly, "Who are you to even talk though? You played with soul magic... you yourself have a mark linked to another person... don't be a hypocrite, Professor."

The dour potions master suddenly did something inexplicable. He smiled, then unexpectedly, even to himself, burst into laughter. "You have been a good influence for her, Reg." He said, laughing heartily. The smile had been seen before, rarely, but the laughter had not. And the change it made to his face was startling, positively affecting his whole demeanor.

It would take some getting used to, for all involved, but they had built a bridge that day. Suddenly, inexplicably, and unexpectedly. It was a surprisingly good start.

————


	29. Take Me Away

___

**Chapter Twenty-Nine**

_—_

_Take Me Away_

_

_29 October, 1980, Muggle London_

—

Remus Lupin kicked a pebble up the cobbled street he had picked at random.

He hated this job he had been tasked with, trying to get in with the werewolves to find out which side they were in in this war. He didn't fit in, and didn't necessarily want to, which left him out of plans most of the time. Leading him to do things like this, walking aimlessly around trying to find a scent to follow, bored out of his mind.

If he were home, or with his friends, he would be having a much better time of things. At least, that's what he thought. There had been talk about a spell being created around the Potter household. He hadn't been told directly, but the last full moon he had been around he had overheard a hushed conversation between Lilly and James.

Thinking quickly, he had written down the words as they tried to get the pronunciations right. Since then he had heard bits and pieces of instructions, diligently cobbling them together to make a complete set. He hadn't tried it, not that he knew any pregnant people about to give birth, but he knew they had by now. If anything terrible had taken place someone would have let him know, right? He hoped so at least. Putting the spell out of his mind, Remus focused on the scent he had just crossed. Another werewolf was close by.

As he drew nearer he began to hear sounds, and a smell drifted towards him. He blushed furiously, knowing he shouldn't get any closer. By the sounds of it the coupling he was hearing was consensual, and interrupting wouldn't do him any favors within the pack he was currently infiltrating.

Remus turned around to make his way back to the cobbled street he had left, only to trip on something. He landed hard on the pavement. Peering around his eyes landed on the object responsible for his fall. "Seriously?!" He exclaimed. A cylindrical object lay just to the left of his right hand.

The werewolf picked it up, ready to throw it as far away as he could, when an idea came to him. It was a long shot, but it just might work. "If only I had someone to share life with, I wouldn't have this problem...", he said aloud. The man tossed the object to the side carelessly, unaware that seconds later it disappeared.

"Oi, Mutt!" Growled an angry voice from the end of the alley next to him. "You following me? Coulda smelled ya a mile away. You wanna join or somethin'? She mi' night not like it, but could be more fun that way, eh?" The man laughed predatorily, exposing his yellowed teeth in a feral grim, "I always like to hear em scream."

Remus wondered how he could get out of this invitation without making an enemy. On one hand he had a plan waiting for him, on the other he really needed to gain acceptance within this pack. He knew the saying 'when in Rome, do as the Roman's do', but he didn't think he could stomach it.

Distantly, a pained scream broke through his thoughts. The other werewolf growled, and ran towards it, Remus following in alarm.

_

Grimmauld Place, present day

Severus Snape! She couldn't believe it was Severus Snape! Alive! So many years had passed, and things had gone back to their normal level of chaos, and now... Hermione was reliving it all over again. She wasn't sure how Harry would feel about this development. He had been the one to find the body after all.

All these people, thought dead and gone, just kept showing up! Fred, Regulus, Sirius, Severus, and Merlin was supposedly out there somewhere. Their names kept flashing through her mind. She knew it was her fault. If she hadn't messed with time Hermione wouldn't be on this emotional roller coaster again. If she hadn't left the altered case in her room, it wouldn't have gotten stranger yet.

What new and completely crazy things were they going to learn now?! Hermione really didn't want to know. She had lain awake forever last night thinking about it all. When she finally fell asleep she dreamed about it all, her brain coming up with the strangest scenarios of long dead historical figures coming back from the dead, just not quite right. Regulus' arms around her had been her only comfort from the nightmares!

Now, here Hermione was, writing another report for work about the things that had happened due to her experiment with time. This was her penance, she thought. Being forced to relive everything ceaselessly.

She wanted to floo Mungo's and yell "take me away!", maybe they would lock her in some cozy, quiet room and throw away the key. She felt so unhinged lately! So many crazy things were happening in her life and she just didn't know how to cope. And to top it all off, she knew she was changing on some sort of fundamental level. Hermione was torn about how to feel about that.

On one hand change is absolutely normal, it's the natural progression of things. On the other hand she wasn't sure who she would be by the end of this, whatever it was.

As she sat, lost in thought, an owl dropped a memo onto her desk. Kingsley wanted an update on the prophecy. Why hadn't she fulfilled it, again? Oh, yes, because she didn't know how... was she supposed to waltz off to some fancy castle? Visit the bank and claim her destiny that way? Was there something in one of the books or jewels that would satisfy the bloody orb?

"I really don't have time for all this!" She sighed, burying her face in her arms. Mungo's was calling her name as well, but all Hermione wanted to do was crawl into her bed and hide from the world.

She would have, if Regulus wouldn't have interrupted her plans. Regulus who looked like he was walking on air, happier than a camper, excited about life in general. He greeted her with a passionate kiss, conjuring a flower for "his love" and generally trying to romance her. She had almost made it to her room too!

"Stop overthinking, Hermione, you're stressing yourself out." He chastised, rubbing the knots from her shoulder. It was scary how well he knew her in such a short amount of time, but it felt good most days to have someone relate to her on that level. Today though, it was just vaguely annoying.

Shrugging him off she glared at him, "I'm fine, just tired. And I have to deal with... everything today." Why had she taken all this on again? Why had she helped George with a new project? Hermione just wanted everything to go back to the way it was before all this mess cluttered up her life... but then again, she wouldn't have met and fallen for Regulus if none of this had happened. But what if...

Hermione's internal monologue was interrupted when Regulus sighed, "What's really wrong Hermione?" His eyes were full of concern, and she could tell he knew she was shutting him out of something.

Looking down, shoulders slumped, Hermione said something, barely audible yet unintelligible.

"One more time, louder please?" He requested.

Still staring at the floor she took a deep breath and raised her eyes determinedly, all but shouting, "Everything's changing! I hate it! Now your best friend is back and you're not going to want me anymore, because he bloody hates me!"

"That's why you've been so... weird? That's what you think of me?" Regulus gasped, taken aback. "That's fantastic!" He barked condescendingly, "Jealousy is such a good look on you... said no one ever." He turned his back on her then, and walked briskly down the hallway. Once he was sure she couldn't see him anymore he leaned up against a wall, sliding down in to sit on the floor.

Regulus knew he shouldn't have said that. He surely didn't mean it. But she was just so... stupid. He had literally stood up to his best friend about how he treated her the other night, in front of her... because he refused to choose between them. Although, if he had to choose, it would be her. Stupid assumptions and all, she was it for him.

Vaguely, he realized that should probably have been his response. Accusing her of jealousy wasn't exactly a good way to resolve their insecurities. He hung his head tiredly, knowing he should get up and go back to fix the mess he had made.

By the time he got up and walked back over, wringing his hands apprehensively all the while, she was gone.

Regulus checked her room, but found it empty. The library was equally silent. He ran into Harry in the hallway, quickly sharing a quick synopsis of what happened. The other man looked at him knowingly, his eyes shining with pity, having been on the receiving end of Hermione's ire before he knew it could get worse before it got better. Unfortunately Harry hadn't seen her either, so he went to check the ministry, while Regulus braved Mungo's. He needed to talk to Severus anyway.

_

_St. Mungo's_

_—_

"Why do you hate me?" An irate Hermione Granger demanded of a sleepy Severus Snape, after slamming open the door to his room, waking him from a quick cat nap. So much for good starts.

He blinked at her, shaking his head, "I don't h—"

"Don't lie to me Professor!" She screamed shrilly. "The very first day of class you already acted as if you hated me on principle." Her hair was crackling with electricity, not made any better by the fact that her hands kept running through it as she waved wildly as she spoke, "Yes, maybe I was over ambitious, maybe I was annoying... but for a grown man to act that way towards a child... what did you know about me that made you hate me so much?"

The man on the bed sighed, sitting up. "Miss Granger, I fear I owe you an apology. But, there's —so much you just don't know." He started, before backtracking, "Yes, you were an annoying little know it all, who grew into a swotty brainiac... and that did irritate me immensely. But I'm... it was mostly for show... you being a supposed muggleborn and all."

"I... how did you know that?!" Hermione gasped.

He smirked, "Your mother is my second cousin, on my mothers side. My mother was a pureblood. I know how fanatical the family is, was... I'm not sure actually. But regardless, squib line or not, your mother was no plain old muggle.

Most of the females in the family that were squibs were blessed with an extreme version of the sight. Like all their magic focused in their ability, instead of manifesting into standard magical powers, if you will." He paused a moment, before breathing out a secret he had never told a soul before. "Your mother gave the original prophecy about the downfall of the dark lord.

We met in passing in moment of chance, not far from the leaky cauldron, just long enough for her to deliver the prophecy." At her gobstruck look, he continued, "Since she was regarded by the ministry as a muggle, it was not recorded.

When I heard it repeated by Professor Trelawny I knew she was a phony, who had probably just overheard the original, but I let Dumbledore run with the idea. She hadn't heard all the information, and therefore was missing several key elements... which worked well for suiting my needs at the time... but anyway, I do apologize, Miss Granger, for my treatment of you. I couldn't have your family being a target to the dark lord, I didn't know what secrets they had laying around unknowingly."

She nodded, "Probably a good call... I — I found Merlin's trunk in the attic... I haven't been back to see what else could be there"

"Merlin...?" He breathed. That was unexpected. But then again so was the man who flung himself through the door and started speaking before looking around, or even murmuring a greeting.

"You have to be nicer to Hermione!" Regulus ranted, "I don't know what you think she did to you, or why she thinks you hate her. But she is absolutely everything to me, and I will not lose her because of your stupid snarky nature. You've been my friend for so many years, but mark my words, I would choose her Severus. So work it out!" He was breathing hard, eyes wild, the most ruffled that Severus Snape had ever seen him. It was quite a sight.

Severus, however merely raised an eyebrow, before looking at the awe stricken girl on the other side of the room. This movement had the intended effect, causing the other man to follow his gaze. His mouth fell open dumbly, "Hermione..." Regulus breathed.

"Before you came bursting in here, Regulus, Hermione and I were having a little chat. Oddly, she addressed the same issue you did. Both of you came in shouting. Only one of you came in and actually asked me anything to which I could properly respond," he sneered pointedly at Regulus. "Miss Granger, you may want to teach my friend some manners, I'm not sure where they've gone. Now if you two are quite done... I'd like to get back to my nap before the other occupants of this room return."

Both Hermione and Regulus looked properly chastised. "I'm sorry professor," Hermione said quietly, "I didn't think about the fact that you may have had a valid reason for acting as you did. Thank you for explaining that to me. I'll leave any questions about your recovery with the orderly, you can answer at your leisure. I'll go find your roommates and pester them for a while, so you can get back the time I've taken from you."

He nodded sharply, then gazed at the door. When she had exited he turned to his friend. "Be good to her. I can tell you're very much past the point of no return. She's... a good person. Despite my previous treatment of her. You'll have no problems from me."

Regulus simply stared for a moment, wondering just what he'd missed. Deciding not to look a gift horse in the mouth, he nodded his thanks and followed his witch out of the room. "Hermione," he called after her, rushing over to where she had stopped.

"Regulus." She greeted coolly. "Here to accuse me of anything else?"

"If I may..." he Responded slowly, leveling his gaze at her, "I accuse you formally of being wholly too good for an idiot such as myself." He strode a step closer, "Also, I accuse you of causing such reactions in me that I completely forget myself and simply feel, and act, and make a complete fool out of myself." Another step, "I accuse you of leaving and scaring the daylights out of me that I'd gone and screwed up something as good as what we've got, when I realized as soon as I'd left that I was so very wrong." Yet another, she was so close yet still so far. He finished with one final thought, "Other than that, I accuse you of nothing." Before he closed the remaining distance between them and waited for her response.

She stared at him, eyes searching his own for any residual anger. For any trace that he truly thought badly about her. Finding none, she flung herself into his arms. "I'm sorry, I was stupid too. I just... got wrapped up in what if's and I got lost in my head... I—" He hushed her, pressing a single finger to her lips.

"None of that is important. You don't need to apologize. All I want is you. All I need is you." A tear had fallen down her cheek. Regulus wiped it away gently, tucking his hand in her hair at the base of her neck. "I love you Hermione, so much I don't know what to do with myself sometimes," he told her, before bowing his head to kiss her gently.

"Oh! My heart! My eyes! — but mostly my heart!" A voice cried grievously from a ways down the hallway, pulling the couple from their moment. Theodore Nott, accompanied by Draco Malfoy and Pansy's father were ambling their way.

Regulus groaned quietly. The terrible trio were not his favorite people. He watched as his witch walked over to meet them, discussing the experiences they'd had since their treatment. She was smiling, and it was growing by the minute, so it must have been good news. It was times like this, Regulus felt so out of place in this time.

Most of his friends were just so... old now! People his age now had been babies when he went missing. And while he loved that he'd met Hermione and that they'd fallen in love, he wished that everything could just be normal. As he watched, Hermione appeared to be trying to wrap the conversation up. One of the wizards however, didn't seem to want her to leave.

He had his arm around his witch. Theodore Nott, was trying to pull her over to the side for a private conversation, and she wasn't stopping him. They were moving further away from his watchful gaze, and Regulus didn't like how it made him feel.

For as much as he called Hermione jealous, Regulus was indeed the jealous one in their relationship. Striding briskly after the pair, he went to rescue his witch. There they were, around the corner. The brake bloke still hadn't unhanded Hermione!

"Oh, ok," Hermione was saying softly, "well I'll definitely write that symptom down in my notes. But to be fair, I'm not sure that was caused by the potion... it sounds fairly... normal?" She was stammering, and blushing, upon further inspection.

"It lasted for hours!" Theodore argued, "And the dreams were so... vivid!" He smirked, half-leering, until his eyes landed on Regulus. At which point he paled considerably and stammered, "Uh... I mean, yeah you're probably right. It was pretty normal. I think of her often so... probably not the potion causing my reactions... but if it's helpful to know then, yeah... write it down Granger."

Another glance at Regulus had the other man wrapping it up quickly, as he could see the anger simmering just beneath the surface. "Later Granger, thanks again!" He gave a half hearted wave and took off to rejoin his friends, leaving Hermione standing in the hallway.

She looked up and saw Regulus standing there and blew out a burst of air. "I'm still mad at you," she said, smiling slightly, "not as much as I was before, but it's still there." He laughed, expecting nothing less. "Also," she continued, "let it be noted, that I accuse you, not me, of being the jealous one. I mean... look at yourself, you were practically vibrating with anger and your bright red."

"You're not exactly wrong." Regulus conceded. He held out his arm to escort her to the other rooms, so she could finish collecting her information for the day. "It doesn't help that I know he did that on purpose. That kid... he's something else. I don't like it."

Hermione laughed, agreeing with him wholeheartedly. "There's something wrong with him, I'm sure of it." She explained, "I think he was dropped on his head as a child."

"Often!" Regulus added gleefully. Thankful that they could have a lighthearted conversation after the events of that morning. "I really am sorry." He said solemnly.

She smiled, throwing the dark haired man a wink. "Oh I know," she nodded, whispering conspiratorially, "I just like to make you squirm. You're cute when you think you're in trouble." Then she walked through the next door, shutting it firmly behind her.

All was going well, both with the collection of data, and the two lovebirds, until they reached the room that held the former vampires. Opening the door, Hermione recoiled, slamming it shut again quickly. "We have a problem." She gasped, pulling out her wand and sending a patronus to Harry, in his official capacity.

"What is it? What happened Hermione?" Regulus asked. She shook her head, tight lipped. Not ready to explain what she had seen on the other side of the thin wood door. Gently, he moved her out of the way, sitting her in a chair on the other side of the hall. "I'm sure, whatever it is, it's not your fault."

She didn't respond as he crept back across the hall, and opened the door a crack. Just enough to peer in the door. "Shit." He breathed, repeating her actions. He cast his own patronus, to Pansy, requesting her presence as soon as magically possible, before going to sit next to Hermione.

_

Pansy was on her lunch break, trying to figure out where some of her coworkers were. All of the orderlies had reported throughout the night, but she was missing one batch of reports from this morning. Try as she might, she hadn't been able to locate them.

It wasn't until a glowing jaguire, speaking in Regulus Black's voice, requested her immediate presence that she began to get the suspicion that something was terribly wrong. Throwing the sandwich she had been just about to bite into back into her lunch bag, and banishing the whole thing into the fridge, Pansy took off at a brisk walk. Trying to prepare for any possibilities that she may face when she arrived.

————

Auror Potter was bored, sitting at his desk waiting for something, anything to happen, so that he could get out of the ministry and see a little bit of the world. He must have wished a little too hard, he thought, when Hermione's patronus showed up and said only, "Mungo's. Now."

Getting his wish, Harry apparated to the wizarding hospital, Ron and Neville in tow, arriving only to realize he had no idea where in the hospital his friend actually was.

"Point me." Ron said, watching as his wand made a path through the halls. Quickly, they followed its lead, racing around corners, through doors they'd never seen, not stopping to take note of where they were going. They'd figure it out later if they had to.

Neville, however, was starting to see familiar sights. "Oh, Merlin, I was here last night!" He yelled, "My parents!". The man pushed himself to move faster, slightly panicked. Ron and Harry shared a glance, that couldn't be good.

They were so busy looking at each other and following the light that they didn't see they were on a collision course with a dark haired female. Harry went down, dragging Ron and the girl with him. Neville kept on going, knowing they'd get it sorted, and too focused on his destination.

"Potter!" The girl yelled irately. He looked up, down, he really didn't know which direction it was if he was honest, into the face of the astonishingly familiar face of Pansy Parkinson. "Let me up you oaf! Hermione and Regulus need me for Merlin only knows what, I have a whole team of orderlies unaccounted for, and I'm... oh, what kind of a witch am I?" She pulled her wand and, twisting awkwardly underneath of him, apparated away.

As Harry had been touching her, and Ron had been trying to help him up, they were pulled along for the ride too. Landing, once again, in an awkward heap on the floor, this time directly in front of the stoic forms of Hermione Granger and Regulus Black. Neville arrived, panting, only seconds later, offering a hand to the pile of entangled limbs that was his friends.

"What's wrong?" Pansy and Harry demanded simultaneously. They received only a finger pointing at the nearest door, and a whispered, "in there."

Pansy was confused, checking the mental list in her mind, she asked, "thats the vampires room, right?" To which she received an affirmative nod. "I thought the potion worked..." she murmured.

Hand on the rooms doorknob, Ronald Weasley stopped, recoiling as if it was hot, "Vampires?!" He yelped, "Bloody Hell! Warn a bloke, would ya?"

"They're not vampires anymore." Hermione stated bluntly, the words said in a tone none of them had ever heard from the witch, "the potion we were testing cured them of actual vampirism... but... well... you look, I can't say it." It was like she was numb. What could have happened, her friends wondered, that could have caused that kind of a response from Hermione?

With a deep breath Ron placed his hand back on the handle, turning it slowly, then inching it open just a crack. The air blew out of his mouth in a whoosh. "Oh Merlin!" He gasped, backing quickly away from the door. Trading places with Neville, who also recoiled, as did Harry after him.

"What in Merlin's name could be so bad that three... sorry four... grown men are acting like little babies?!" Pansy asked, rolling her eyes, and stomping to the door, throwing it open wide. Her eyes widened, but she didn't back off. "That explains the missing orderlies..." she said quietly.

They were there, posed in a macabre rendition of a tea party, it seemed. A solitary former vampire was sitting calmly on his bed, sipping red liquid from a standard hospital tea cup.

The one who claimed to be a prince raised a hand, literally, in greeting. "Your room service was good, thanks." He dropped it to the ground, where it hit with a sick kind of a thud, splattering gore. "Unfortunately I found the room a bit... crowded."

Upon further inspection she noticed a name was spelled across the wall, and suddenly the reason for Hermione's silence was readily apparent. It was hers.

And then Pansy saw them.

The vampires that were actually happy to be cured. He had, apparently, given them a twisted version of the traditional vampire burial. Well, at least the superstitious muggle kind.

Each one was sat up at the feet of an orderly, holding his or her own head in their arms. A pile of hearts was in the center of the table they had all been placed around, looking for all the world like they could have been some sort of gory delicacy. The orderlies had been posed to look like they were sipping tea out of tea cups made from... well, it wasn't readily apparent what they were, but no one was really up to asking that particular question at the moment. There was too much else to figure out.

"I have to hand it to you, you're creative. You must have been planning this all night," Pansy said to the vampire, rolling her eyes. She was acting as if it was no big deal, trying not to give him the satisfaction of causing any more panic. "Someone take him to the ministry." The dark haired woman demanded authoritatively, before zeroing her gaze back on the man responsible for this whole mess, "Good news! Now that you're a fully human psychopath, they can treat you like any other wizard."

He obviously hadn't thought of that, by the look of his reaction. His eyes opening impossibly wide, mouth dropping into a gape, but then his eyes flared with anger.

A sadistic smile took over his features when he saw the witch who had drawn his ire was sitting in the hallway. "They can do their worst. My family will have me freed in no time. I'll be back for you, dear sweet Hermione." He promised, licking his lips. "We will have such fun, to thank you for all your— help."

The former vampires maniacal laughter echoed through the halls as Harry himself grabbed him roughly, and apparated him to a holding cell at the ministry. Ron blew out a breath. "Why do we always find our way to the psycho ones that have something against us?" He asked Hermione, who couldn't help the laugh that escaped her.

"Why indeed." She echoed.

_

_Ministry of Magic_

—

Harry wanted to hit the man in his grasp, so badly it was almost a compulsion. He didn't take kindly to anyone threatening those he loves! Anyone could tell you that. Just look at Voldemort.

"You're lucky you're still breathing," he growled at the man, shoving him into a cell in a specially warded room full of, mostly empty, holding cells. "If I wasn't working..." he shook his head, letting the sentence hang in the air. The man had stopped laughing when they abruptly arrived at the ministry, however his smirk had yet to fade.

Deciding he had had enough, Harry turned to leave after the door to the cell clicked shut. The man in the cell whispering, "tick tock, tick tock," with every step he took. Thankfully, he reached the exit quickly, and the mildly threatening annoyance was gone. "Where do we keep finding these guys?" Harry wondered, reflecting on his uncanny ability to draw the crazies to himself and his friends.

He wandered as he pondered, not really paying attention to where he was headed. Until, with a gasp, he realized that he was in the department of mysteries. Inside the hall of prophecies. Vaguely he realized that he wasn't alone, a stoic unspeakable was monitoring the room, watching his actions carefully. His actions that were leading him, as if he were a puppet, back to where the seven prophecies of Merlin were proudly displayed on their pedestals.

They were so pretty, he thought, standing there, reflecting the light from the charmed window behind them. He just wanted to touch one...

Harry Potter, the boy who lived to make another stupid decision, reached out his hand. He felt the cool kiss of the crystal ball underneath the warmth of his palm. He breathed out a breath of relief, as it didn't send him flying backwards with a jolt of electricity. Harry's relief, however, was short lived when the room began to swirl and fade out around him. The 5th prophecy of Merlin, it turned out. Wasn't truly a prophecy at all, but a strange type of portkey, most likely keyed only to the person who the prophecy was linked to, but he wasn't certain of that.

All Harry knew was that he was along for the ride now, and he needed to be ready for anything. Merlin could be quite the trickster, as he had learned from recent occurrences.


	30. The 7 Prophecies of Merlin- iii The 5th

————

**Chapter Thirty**

—

_**The Seven Prophecies of Merlin**_

\- Part III - 

_The 5th Prophecy_

————

Harry was spinning. He was actually getting quite dizzy, although it wasn't as uncomfortable as the feeling of a normal portkey. In fact, he was thinking that he preferred it to the feeling of being squeezed like your whole body's being sucked through some cosmic straw. He wondered, briefly, how long he'd been gone, and where he was going to end up.

Noting that it was pointless to wonder things he couldn't confirm, he instead reflected back to what had been going on in his life recently. A lot of surprises, definitely, actually that was about a perfect synopsis of the events.

The highlight of which was that Sirius was back, everything else he could give or take. Well, maybe, Regulus too had become quite a good friend to Harry. The Merlin stuff, the time problems, yeah he could lose those, and Hermione was sure to agree with that statement.

She had been driving herself crazy trying to right the wrongs, dot all the I's cross all the t's. Not that she said as much in words, but Harry had known the witch for long enough that he was very familiar with her tells. And Merlin help him, Harry worried about his friend constantly. Right in this moment though, Harry was worried about himself. The swirling feeling was beginning to dissipate, and the feeling that he knew where he was was growing by the second.

Although the boy who lived hadn't stepped foot in this place in years, he recognized it instantly. The chamber of secrets. Harry sighed at his luck, of course the ball would take him to a place like this. Everyone else got mythical lands, castles of long dead founders, but him? He got to stare at the bones of a creature he had killed, in a place he never should have had to be. The question was, _why was he here_?

It had to be connected to the prophecy, he reasoned, but Hogwarts was built long after Merlin's time. Although, so was the Gryffin's Keep, so it wasn't out of the question. Looking around he tried to spot anything that could hold a crystal ball, but all he saw was the creepy statue of the infamous muggle hater, Salazar Slytherin.

Ironically, he hadn't investigated fully on his previous ventures into the chamber. He'd had no inclination to do so, nor did the thought of staring upon the glassy eyes of the statue give him any warm fuzzy feelings. "Wait a second... the eyes," Harry whispered, the sound echoing off the stone walls eerily. "Salazar Slytherin, show me your secrets." Harry commanded in Parseltongue, figuring it was worth a shot.

The room began to vibrate, the statue making a groaning sound that Harry wasn't so sure was a good thing. When, after a tense series of moments, the statue began to creak open, he noticed the orbs that had served as the eyes of Slytherin for centuries were not as secure as they had looked before, sliding backwards out of the sockets precariously.

"_Accio_ crystal balls from Slytherin's statue," Harry called, remembering to specify what exactly he wanted. It wouldn't do to die in this room, he'd surely never be found. As they were still held inside the statue, it took a few tries for the spheres to get free, but eventually they were zooming towards him. Without much of a thought he held up his hands and caught one, then the other.

As the first crystal had done nothing, Harry hadn't worried about the other one. He should have at least been prepared for the possibility that it was the true prophecy and would therefore suck him in. Which it ultimately did, but not before a voice distractedly declared, "you win... give me a moment to finish my page, then you may begin to gloat." An astonished Harry Potter didn't even get the chance to see who had addressed him before he was in front of Merlin in the familiar setting from the first prophecy.

The renowned wizard appeared to stare through Harry, a fond smile upon his face. "Young Wizard, you remind me so much of myself." He began, "Everything you do is for everyone else, everything you get is used to benefit others as well. A responsibility that was not your own was laid on your shoulders as a young child, and for that I am sorry. You should not have had to die for others to live. With _them_ expecting it of you. It's unthinkable. It's completely backwards. You've taken my duty to the world, performed my responsibilities, you have sacrificed of yourself in my stead. I am eternally grateful, as well as eternally sorrowful. I..."

Merlin's monologue was cut off, transforming mid-thought into the familiar tone of a prophecy in progress.

"_Savior of them all_

_Through the rise and the fall_

_You have lost _

_You have saved _

_You have given _

_Lived through the rise,_

_Heralded the fall,_

_Twice you defied the dark men._

_Your prophecy fortold,_

_Yet not truly sold_

_You have shouldered the blame_

_And the glory._

_This time, my friend_

_You won't herald the end_

_But begin the rise_

_From history._

_Master of death_

_You hear it's sweet call_

_Yet are destined to live_

_Until you both fall. _

_But not who you think,_

_And not alone._

_In the end,_

_You will find your true home_."

Merlin snapped out of his trance, his head jerking around wildly. "What was I saying? Oh... yes. Thank you for doing what I could not be there to do. I wish I could have shouldered this responsibility, but it's been foretold that I should not. The consequences would be... unfathomable. But Morgana and I have found a way to hopefully prevent that outcome."

He exhaled heavily, eyes downcast, "Until we meet again, young wizard." With a wave from the wizard before him, Harry was cast out of the sphere.

————

_Meanwhile, at St. Mungo's_

—

Harry hadn't returned yet, but Ron and Neville had brought backup to collect the evidence and bodies from the room. There were a lot of grim faces in the hallway that day.

The Minister stopped by briefly, to check on the situation and see how Hermione was doing. Not as bad as she had been, but she wasn't quite back to her old self yet. When Kingsley told her the man would be held in Azkaban, subjected to human laws as opposed to vampire, she brightened considerably. His family would not be notified further, as they had already turned away the ministry representative who stated that a human male wished for their assistance, claiming to be part of their family.

Everything went as well as could be expected, until the Minister asked about the whereabouts of one Harry Potter.

As they assumed he had been at the ministry, Ron and Neville said as much. To which the minister stated with certainty that while he had been seen some time ago in the prophecy room, he left without notice, presumably back to St. Mungo's. At which point Hermione figured out that there was more to this story, and promptly started yelling.

"Did anyone actually see him leave? Wouldn't he have had to pass an unspeakable or at least a guard on the way out, how would it have been unnoticed!?" She ranted, waving her arms wildly.

Kingsley looked as if he had bitten into a lemon. "I— don't know? They didn't say... but that is a good question." He answered hesitantly, "Shall we go check it out?" His only answer was in the form of a glare, the brown haired woman grabbing onto her wizard, and apparating away.

The older wizard sighed, "I'll take that as a 'yes Minister Shacklebolt'... you lot carry on here, let me know if anything further is found." Then he too apparated to the ministry. Hopeful that he would be in time to catch the young witch before she did anything rash.

"D'ya think Harry would really be so stupid as to go mess with the hall of prophecies on his own?" Ron asked Neville, eyebrows raised.

Neville shrugged, "It is Harry... he's kind of a loose cannon, you know." Ron rolled his eyes, then shook his head, knowing that the other man was correct in his judgement of their friend.

———— 

_Ministry of Magic_

_—_

They ran through the halls of the Ministry, Hermione in the lead, Regulus just behind her as they reached the department of Mysteries. Vaguely, they heard Minister Shacklebolt's heavy footsteps from behind them.

The door to the hall of prophecies was before them, in the circular atrium of doors that at one point was a mystery to Hermione. "How the times have changed," she murmured to herself. Flinging the door open she rushed in, stopping at the guard. Suddenly it was apparent where the confusion had come from. He was asleep, not even rousing when Hermione poked him hesitantly, clearing her throat.

As the minister entered the room, she turned to him. "Great security you have here, Kings. I bet you could yell '_Voldemort is coming_!' and he'd sleep through it—or not." the man had bolted upright, and not bothering with his wand, he took off towards the door.

"Voldemort is coming!? I have to tell my wife, I have to go... I have to... bloody hell the noseless wanker is going to crucify all of us!" He was running, in a blind panic, tears streaming down his face. The Minister looked grim, shouting, "Oi! Auror Dobson, stop!"

To his credit, he did. Muttering excuses about Voldemort. "He's dead. He's not coming, but you... were supposed to be guarding this hall, not catching up on sleep! Did you see Harry Potter exit this room?" The man, ashamedly, shook his head. "Go home. Pull yourself together. Report to me first thing in the morning, looks like we need to have a talk." And then he was gone.

Hermione had snuck off right after the terrified man rose from his chair, hurrying towards the section that was home to Merlin's prophecies.

The pedestal that held the fifth prophecy stood before her. As the feared, it was empty. "Oh, Merlin!" She groaned as Regulus laughed beside her.

Hermione shot him a glare and he defended his laughter with a shrug, "He sure has a sense of humor, that's all." The witch muttered to herself unintelligibly for a few moments, before grabbing her wand. Thinking she was going to hex him for his continued laughter, Regulus ducked, only to see her patronus flash before him.

"Find Harry," she instructed it, "Where are you, boy wonder?" She repeated herself quietly after it took off, sinking to her knees onto the cold stone floor of the Hall of Prophecies. It was from that vantage point that she noticed the inscription on the bottom of the pedestal. "Regulus!" She gasped, pointing, "What does that say? Just there, underneath the platform."

He ducked his head, confusion written on his face. He shook his head, "It's letters but they look weird...they're...", conjuring something, he tried again. "Backwards" he confirmed, showing her the mirror in his hand, "You're going to love this..." he whispered.

"What does it say, Regulus Black!?" She snapped, loudly at that. Kingsley chose that moment to arrive, looking on the scene with interest, and wondering just what was happening before him.

Regulus smirked devilishly, announcing, "_Help shall always be found at Hogwarts_."

He chuckled at the look of pure disbelief contorting her features. She grabbed the mirror from his hands and checked for herself, only to find the same phrase he had just quoted to her.

The Minister quirked an eyebrow, "Hogwarts? But that wasn't built til well after Merlin's time!" He shook his head, none of this made any sense.

Regulus agreed, "True, but neither was the Gryffins Keep, and its part of all this too... it's worth a shot. Worst case scenario you get a chance to pop in on Minerva. Merlin knows you're both lonely people, you can use all the friendly interaction you can get dear Minister."

Letting out a deep belly laugh at the younger man's assertion, the Minister let the headmistress of Hogwarts know of their impending arrival. No doubt she would be curious with the patronus' message coming through in that manner, but some things couldn't be helped. Plus, Regulus hadn't been far from the truth. Not that he'd ever admit it.

The group made their way to the floo in silence. Hogwarts awaited them. Why, they did not know.

—————

_Chamber of Secrets, Hogwarts_

_—_

Harry landed back on his feet, in the secret chambers of Salazar Slytherin, below Hogwarts. Looking around wildly, as he had sworn he heard a voice before he got sucked into the prophecy orb, he noticed immediately that something had changed. It was not a person, exactly, just the likeness of the man.

Salazar's statue was open, inside it was a whole new chamber. Full of books, and trinkets, even a very comfortable looking set of chairs, both in the oh so predictable color of Slytherin green. "Woah..." Harry exhaled. He had never expected to find that type of a space inside the dank and dingy chamber, "that's new."

"Who are you, strange speaker." A voice hissed behind Harry. He'd recognize the parseltongue anywhere. Harry didn't get the chance to respond though, before a body bind curse brought him to the floor, unable to move.

From there, he was surprised that he saw a semi familiar face staring down at him. The bright green eyes were the only thing he hadn't seen before. In fact, he saw two of the man's faces staring back at him. One of which, was towering above him, eyeless and made of Stone, the other was surely alive. How was it possible, he wondered, for Salazar Slytherin himself to be standing over him?

"Where's Godric?" The Slytherin founders wondered aloud, "He's got to be around here somewhere. Took him long enough!" Harry watched as the man searched the chamber for signs of anyone else. Finding none, he sighed. "Unless..."

————

_Headmistress' office, Hogwarts _

_—_

Minister Shacklebolt arrived first, followed shortly by Regulus and Hermione. Minerva greeted them with a smile, eyes showing only the slightest bit of worry as she asked what the occasion for their unscheduled visit.

"Harry's here, Professor!" Hermione rushed to explain, "Well, we believe he is... there was a mishap with a seemingly possessed prophecy orb. Let me see..." she wondered pulling out her wand, and casting a _point_ _me_.

Everyone gasped when it indeed showed an direction. As a group, all four headed out of Minerva's office, following the trail lit up by the spell from Hermione's wand.

"That boy still knows how to find trouble!" The headmistress exclaimed, struggling to keep up with the fast pace set by the others. Laughingly, they all agreed. Especially when the trail ended at the first floor girls bathroom housing one Myrtle Warren, a.k.a. Moaning Myrtle. Oh, and also something more secret and less... coherent.

Hermione and McGonnagal were the only two in the group who knew the significance of this place. "The chamber," Hermione whispered, "The Chamber of Secrets is beyond this wall... but... none of us are parseltongues, so how can we get in?"

The Minister, thinking quickly, cast a bombarda, opening the wall. "That's how." He declared, shining light into the opening before taking a deep breath and plunging bodily down into its depths. Hermione and Regulus followed. Minerva stayed behind, presumably so someone could help everyone back up later.

There was a light at the end of the tunnel. Literally. Kingsley was getting closer and closer to it. Not having been down this particular rabbit hole before, he wasn't sure what to expect. Whatever it had been, however, is not what he saw upon his arrival. "Petrificus totalis!" He shouted, seeing an unidentified man standing above the savior of the wizarding world.

"Who is that?" Hermione echoed his thoughts as she stood after exiting the hole. Racing to her friend as fast as she was able, yelling, "Harry!" She checked for a pulse, sighing in relief when it was strong. Noticing his eyes were open, and looking pointedly at her, she released the spell with a quick "finite."

Harry stood slowly, stretching his muscles before turning to the man on the ground. "I don't know how it's possible," He said slowly,"but this man is Salazar Slytherin... or at least looks an awful lot like his statue." He heard choked gasps around him and continued, "He came out of the statue when I summoned the orbs that made up its eyes. It's some kind of... secret library, or office... or something. And he's a parselmouth."

"Impossible," Kingsley declared, but seeing the looks on the faces of the others he started questioning his belief immediately, "isn't it?"

Hermione shook her head, "I believe Merlin found a way to stay alive all these years. He's said I'm to be the one to release him from his self inflicted imprisonment. I just don't know where yet... or how." She sighed, "And the Flamel's had the philosophers stone. They were hundreds of years old before its destruction. At this point... it may well be a real possibility."

Thinking hard, she tried to figure out how to prove or disprove the theory without releasing him. They didn't know what he was capable of, regardless of who he was, especially with the position he had Harry in when they arrived. Plus, he obviously knew secrets about this area of Hogwarts. But how... if only they could get into his mind... _wait_... Hermione had the sudden urge to facepalm, "Regulus, how's your leglimancy? Severus had to practice on someone and you're rather close, I'm betting it was you."

He shrugged nonchalantly, "I mean... he learned it from me, so I assume it's passable at least. Why? You want to show me something m'lady?" Regulus wiggled his eyebrows suggestively. In response, Hermione nudged him with her shoulder, gesturing to the man on the ground. He sighed in mock disappointment,"Oh, tragedy. I suppose I could take a look..."

Moments later Regulus' eyebrows were safely hiding underneath the fringe of his bangs. He whistled lowly, "Looks like we found ourselves a founder... courtesy of one renegade can of prinkles." The minister promptly choked on air.

"Merlin..." Harry and Hermione breathed at the same time. Merlin indeed.

Hermione shook her head, releasing the man from the spell he was under, but only after cautioning him, "One wrong move Mr. Slytherin, and you'll be back under the spell, levitated directly to a holding cell." She held out a hand, helping him up, "It seems we have some explaining to do. Is there a place you'd prefer to talk, sir?"

The founder busied himself brushing off imaginary dust from his very fine robes, before staring down his nose at her. "I'd imagine you'd best be explaining now, Miss. I've no need for such formalities."

Nodding brusquely, Regulus took over, seeing that the Slytherin founder was about to be unknowingly swept away by the flood of information his witch would fling at him if given the chance. "Sir Slytherin, I am Regulus Black. If you'd please, do sit, we have a lot to tell you and it may be quite surprising."

The dark haired founder arched an eyebrow, but complied, before staring at Regulus to prompt him to continue.

Regulus did so obligingly, "I imagine you put some sort of stasis spell on the inside of your statue?" He asked, receiving a nod in reply, "Okay then, it may not be surprising for you to learn that some time has passed since you entered the chamber. However, it may surprise you to learn that it's been quite some time, in fact the year is 2002."

Salazar Slytherin was shocked speechless. This only lasted a moment though, as he was out of his seat hissing before anyone could react. Harry, being the only one who could understand the man, began hissing back, trying to calm him. However he only succeeded in making him more upset.

"Stop!" Hermione demanded of both men having a literal hissy fit before her. "Can we speak English? Please. I know, Sir, that this is probably upsetting. It's fairly surprising for us too, believe it or not. But we have to face this situation rationally." She sighed, "And I'd really like to get out of this chamber, it's been... a rather long day."

Kingsley, after casting a quick tempus, suggested that they relocate to the great hall. No doubt Minerva would be interested in this most recent development, and the house elves would no doubt have a feast prepared at this time. Thankfully, school was not in session so there would be no students present.

Begrudgingly Salazar agreed, hissing out commands to the chamber, causing a moving staircase to form from their current location to where they had entered the Chamber of Secrets. Gesturing for the female to go first, they began the quick ascent to Hogwarts proper.

"Did you find him?" Minerva questioned apprehensively when she caught sight of Hermione.

The witch chuckled darkly, "We found more than we bargained for Headmistress." She watched the woman's expression carefully as she caught sight of the man behind her. "Headmistress Minerva McGonagall, allow me to introduce you to Salazar Slytherin, founder of Hogwarts. Apparently Harry found him in the chamber."

"Mr. Potter!" The Scottish witch chastised, "Do you ever stop finding trouble?" Harry hung his head, barely remembering in time to step of the staircase before it flung him abruptly onto the floor.

"Sorry professor. I think it follows me," the bespectacled boy grimaced. "May we impose upon the elves for dinner? I think we could use some drinks too."

Huffing, the headmistress led the way to the great hall, careful to avoid eye contact with the founder of Slytherin house. Upon entering the hall, she clapped her hands and food appeared on the heads table. "Sit" She ordered, face hard, "somebody start explaining, now." And explain they did.

————


	31. Forked

————

**Chapter Thirty-One**

—

_Forked... _

————

They balanced each other out well. Always had, always would. Harry and Hermione were like two halves of a whole. This whole prophecy business didn't change that. Although it sure did make it interesting.

New people, places and things just kept showing up. The latest of which, Salazar Slytherin, was currently getting settled into Hogwarts before beginning his new job of Defense Against the Dark Arts Professor. He and Minerva were still trying to decide what the students would call him, as it may cause a panic to have a long dead, yet somehow alive, man teaching them. Especially one so well known.

Hermione had been working to acclimate him to the current shape of the world. Most notably that muggles weren't burning witches, and didn't steal their magic. It was a slow going process. Harry tried to assist when he could, seeing as the Slytherin house founder trusted him for some odd reason.

Minerva's closeness to the known muggle hater, however, was the biggest surprise. Her no nonsense wit, and his dry sarcasm had been the source of much hilarity as of late. Kingsley was furious, as he had a sweet spot for the former transfiguration professor.

All in all, life was returning to normal, or as normal as it ever got with Harry Potter around. His prophecy, while it raised many questions, was almost unsurprising in the grand scheme of things. Everyone was wondering just who else it was referring to. He couldn't help but wonder if he was somehow linked to Salazar Slytherin, and if that was the reason he was brought to the Chamber of Secrets of all places.

Everyone was gathered around one of the large tables at the Griffins Keep, talking animatedly, while Harry was lost in his musings. Their numbers had grown as of late, including such people as Severus Snape, Minerva, Salazar, even Pansy and Draco showed up this time around. It was indeed a sight to see.

"For the last time—," a voice cut across Harry's thoughts, "I don't care who you are, or that you were the founder of the house I was sorted into," Snape found almost everything Salazar did to be offensive, apparently, thus the loud drawling of the moment, "your potion work is simply sub-par, Salazar. You may want to sit in a few of my classes throughout the year."

The founder laughed heartily, rolling his eyes at the audacity of his fellow snake. "Wishful thinking Severus. Just because I do things differently, doesn't mean they're wrong. Not that your simple mind could process that thought."

"Those two are like the same person, in two different bodies," Ron whispered from Harry's side, "It's creepier than Fred and George have ever been with their twinspeak." Harry nodded, there were truly no words he could think of to summarize it better.

Regulus stood and tapped a glass elegantly with a spoon, "If you boys are quite done with your pissing contest," he started with a wink, "I think we should get down to the matter at hand."

Nods were shared amongst the large group, and the younger of the two Black siblings continued speaking. "We have seven prophecies total, one fulfilled, two additional ones in the process of being so. People are returning to us that have been gone for some time, and we don't know why. Does anyone have a theory to share?" He looked around, stopping pointedly at the potions Professor.

Snape sighed and stood. "I'm not sure in general, as I certainly don't recall Salazar Slytherin being part of the ritual my friends and I created, and Sirius seems to have just been a product of luck. However, I don't see an end to the returns. Not with the designations of Mistress of Life and Master of Death being assigned to those two... dunderheads."

"And who do you suspect we might be seeing?" Harry chortled. His professor had always been gruff and abrasive, but he know knew it was just who he was rather than personal feelings.

Severus raised an eyebrow, not liking being challenged by the boy he used to refer to as the "Potter brat". He debated on how much he should say. If he were wrong it would be... terribly unfortunate. And as much as he truly disliked the boy, he didn't want to destroy him emotionally. "I did mention my friends," Severus drawled, "I know two who completed the same ritual I did. From what they said, there could possibly be a third. Although, I don't know for certain." He sighed tiredly, knowing what was coming next.

"Right, like who? Wasn't Reggie your only friend?" Sirius spoke tauntingly across the table. Everyone waited with bated breath for either the other shoe to drop, or the curses to fly. Neither, however, appeared to be happening. The potions Professor was staring at the elder Black sibling with a look akin to pity, occasionally darting his eyes to the boy who lived, and back.

Sirius Blacks face began to lose color, "No..." he whispered. "But they've been... in... under... but you..." and then he got angry, "how could you?!"

"How could I What?" Snape exploded, signaling that the other shoe had indeed dropped. "How could I have known that they weren't dead? I don't know Sirius, I'd never all but died and been brought back either until recently. Did you want me to kill myself to test a theory? Merlin knows I tried to test it on them, but... I couldn't... they wouldn't... Dumbledore said they were gone."

Sirius laughed, a terribly broken sound. Not quite maniacal, but far from sane. "l'm so sick of everyone using him as the poster child of a martyr. That man knew I was innocent and left me in _Azkaban_ to rot! Kids— kids had to break me out, force them to give me a trial. Kids!" He threw his hands in the air. "If there's even a chance Severus, we have to try."

Severus modded grimly. He stood, whispering a request into Hermione's ear, before moving to stand by Sirius. "Miss. Parkinson, we may have need of a room for another few patients. Together is fine. We will be in touch shortly." Determination alight on the faces of the two enemy's, they apparated in tandem, leaving the other occupants in the room to wonder just what was going on.

"What ritual?" Salazar asked finally, breaking the trance.

Regulus looked him in the eye and said, "Soul magic." At the man's stricken look, he extrapolated, "It seems they created the opposite of the horcrux, the anticrux."

The man's eyes widened. He appeared to look impressed. "We are about to find out for sure, I guess."

The Slytherin and the Gryffindor disappeared swiftly into the night. "I don't think I could handle it if those two start getting along." Regulus muttered, causing chuckles to circulate through the room. When dinner appeared upon the table it was a welcome distraction. Until the twins noticed something strange. "Tiny," George called, requesting the presence of the little elf.

She appeared with a pop, smiling serenely, and waiting to hear why she was being summoned. The red headed twins smiled slowly, figuring out their elf was up to something. "Would you happen to know where any spoons are?" Fred asked, "It seems rather difficult to eat the delicious meal provided with the included cutlery."

Looking to the table the elf mock-gasped, taking in the soup course, with sides of applesauce, jello and mashed potatoes. Not to mention the lovely bowls of various types of pudding for dessert. "Oh no!" She cried, "You've been forked!"

"We've been forked for a while," Draco Malfoy drawled from the far end of the table, "now we're just hungry."

The elf tittered, "Sorry masters, you'll have to make due, all the forks are dirty!" She grinned before disappearing back from whence she came.

"Forked tongues, and wrong utensils." Hermione sighed, "we do have a party on our hands." She tried to transfigured her fork into a spoon, but only succeeded in melting it into a pile of silver goo. All around her it seemed people had had the same idea, and the same result. The napkin she tried to transfigure turned into a white rose, causing her to roll her eyes.

It was only when she took a paper from her purse that she had some success. As everyone struggled all around her, she ate while enjoying the show. The funniest part, she thought, was watching their transfiguration professor fail repeatedly at the subject that she had taught for so many years.

The Weasley twins were using some variation of the bubble charm to transfer manageable globs of food to themselves. Salazar, meanwhile, had resulted to slurping his food directly from his bowl.

Ron was probably the best equipped to deal with this situation, as he had gotten used to eating without hands or utensils, courtesy of the butterfingers he had been blessed with in their last game of Prinkles. He was wandlessly funneling the soup into his mouth through some sort of magic straw.

"Fun times, eh?" Regulus said, pulling Hermione from her musing. She nodded, grinning, while handing him a spoon she had just transfigured for him. "Thanks love, you are the best." He winked, digging in voraciously.

Laughing at his antics, she asked, "Any idea where your brother and friend ran off to? Or who they ran off to, rather."

He shook his head, "I could guess, but it was after my time so I'm not sure." Thoughtfully, he added, "The only one he was ever that gaga over was Lilly. If they made up, then it could be her... and by extension her husband. Which would explain why they didn't name names, come to think of it."

Hermione gasped. It would make sense, she thought. Lilly Potter had been absolutely brilliant at charms, and spellcrafting. James too, with what Sirius had said about their pranking escapades and his handiwork being essential. They wouldn't have said anything, in case they were wrong. Sirius would do anything to keep Harry happy, even shield him from this.

"So they've gone to dig up some graves?" She asked, eyes wide. "That'll go over well, I'm sure. Especially if they're wrong." Regulus murmured his agreement, suggesting they follow the two enemies before they did something stupid.

Sneaking off wasn't so hard, as most of the people present were too busy either eating in a strange manner, or still trying to figure out how to accomplish the feat. Exiting the room, Regulus and Hermione walked out the front door of the Keep, and over a couple streets, to the old churchyard that held the bodies of James and Lilly Potter.

Unfortunately, no one was there. But there was a rather conspicuous hole in the ground in front of the double grave. "Idiots!" Hermione yelled, quickly filling in the hole, before grabbing Regulus' arm and apparating them to St. Mungo's.

————

_St. Mungo's, Testing and Trials Division_

_—_

The now familiar hallways were silent when the two lovebirds arrived. Well, save for the chatter in the room holding Neville's parents, who despite making great strides towards recovery, would probably need a second dose of potion to be considered fully healed.

A loud clang at the opposite end of the hall, followed by muttered cursing, alerted Hermione and Regulus to the direction they needed to go. Following the swearing, they ended up at the very last door. "You didn't think to ask for directions did you?" Sirius snarled at Snape, "I'm glad we're at Mungo's already. If I have dirt in places I don't even want to think about and it's all for nothing, you're not leaving this hospital."

"Promises, promises," the potions Professor drawled, as Regulus swung the door open. He looked up in surprise, "oh, goodie, visitors."

"Harry's not here," Hermione rushed, picking up two vials of potions and motioning for Snape to do the same. "We understand the reason for not telling him. I figured you could use some help, seeing as you were unconscious when it was used on you."

The dour potions Professor looked gobsmacked, but gestured for her to demonstrate. Watching while she magically administered the internal dose of potion, then the external. After copying her actions, he set down the vials, and collapsed heavily in a chair. "Thank you." He said quietly, sounding as if the mere words were painful to choke out.

The four of them sat in silence, watching for any sign of a change. Minutes ticked by, nothing happened.

"Did you check their marks?" Hermione asked Snape, just remembering their existence.

He nodded, "Beyond faint, but there."

Curious, Hermione asked, "Can you show me?" Standing up to walk over to the prone forms belonging to her best friends parents. He obliged, walking over to the closest person, James.

Pulling up the blanket that had been draped over the man's naked body, the potions Professor gestured to the man's inner ankle. Sure enough there was a mark, shaped like a heart, the organ not the shape. Although faint, it was apparently less so than before. If Severus' look was anything to go by. He didn't notice as Hermione walked back to her chair feeling faint.

Regulus, however, did. "What's wrong?" He asked worriedly.

"I've seen that mark before." She whispered, causing everyone to turn and look at her. She rolled up her pant leg, showing her own birthmark, stark against her pale skin. "But who's the other half?" She asked the room.

"Wasn't me!" Sirius said, "And I assume you were born in a muggle hospital. So that narrows it down a bit."

Severus was thoughtful, "What hospital were you born in, Miss Granger?" He looked at her, unvoiced questions racing through his mind.

"I wasn't." Hermione answered assuredly, "I was born on the side of a road, mom always said some nice man helped deliver me." She laughed, her eyes clouding over as she remembered her parents telling her this story on every birthday, she repeated her mother's version of events, "Dad had run to the store to buy some ice cream and she decided on a walk, they were somewhere west of London, on vacation. I remember him saying he was terrified to leave her alone because she was so close to her due date, and there had been reports of animal attacks in the area. She felt the contractions start about halfway around the block, they were suddenly coming so fast she didn't know what to do, so she just leaned against a building and screamed. A man came running, she vividly remembered his sandy blond hair and kind blue eyes.

There was no time to get to a hospital, she said. She'd been having contractions on and off for hours but didn't think they were real. I was born on the side of a little road, thanks to the kindness of a stranger."

Professor Snape's face held a thoughtful expression as Hermione finished her tale. Sirius looked perplexed, until Snape spoke. "Animal attacks you say?" He drawled, "Like... wolves, perhaps?". Sirius' face paled.

"Remus was in that area, undercover with Greybacks pack... you don't think—?" The elder Black sibling asked shakily, head spinning once again. "He's got sandy blonde hair and blue eyes, but how would he have known the ritual? It wasn't common knowledge, even among our group. I'd dare to say we were rather close."

Snape nodded his head. "He practically lived with James and Lily, and he's a werewolf... enhanced hearing means there's little to no privacy. He could have overheard bits and pieces enough to cobble together a close enough version of the spell for it to work... he, although I hate to admit it, was rather —smart."

"That's ludicrous!" Hermione breathed, shaking her head vigorously, "What are the chances that a man that would be my professor, friend of my best friends parents, would help deliver me in the middle of a random street in the muggle world?" She was up and pacing again. Thoughts flying a mile a minute, with no sign of slowing down. Suddenly, she stopped, swiveled to face Snape, and tiredly sighed, "What do we do to prove or disprove this insane theory?"

Sirius answered for him, "More grave-digging. Or, grave robbing... but there's a problem." He ran his hands through his already tussled hair, "He and Dora are buried on Andromeda's property... we can't just go tearing up her lawn. No doubt she has numerous protections up, or at the very least wards to let her know of visitors."

"We have to tell Andromeda." Severus surmised, making Sirius' long winded explanation short and succinct. "Although, I vote we wait to see how this goes... before going on another wild goose chase. It is rather late, and she's got a small child that needs to be considered. Not to mention the fact that we will be addressing only one of two people buried under that particular gravestone. It could be rather upsetting."

Sirius hung his head, he forgot about those, very valid, points. The animangus wanted to rush full speed ahead into this possibility. These were his best friends they were talking about. He would do literally anything for them, and even the chance that they could all be together again, and on this side of the veil, was worth a risk or three. "Okay." He sighed, clearly defeated, "But I'm staying here tonight."

Snape nodded at the man who was far from his favorite person on the planet. "Same. Although I suggest that you, Miss Granger, go home. Regulus too. I have a feeling you'll need the rest. Miss Parkinson will be along shortly, with a copy of your notes on this trial. I should be able to make due without you, although I am capable of summoning you if needed."

"At the first sign of a change, for better or worse," Hermione corrected. She was loathe to miss a second of the trials, but she could feel her eyelids threatening to shut of the own accord. She knew when she shouldn't argue a losing battle. He conceded to her wish, begrudgingly. Severus had always admired her dedication, as annoyingly over the top as at had been over the years.

Regulus sighed in relief as his witch nodded curtly, before walking over to the beds to survey her patients one more time. Their marks were getting darker, he noted internally, a sign that the potion was working, although they still looked eerily still. He could only imagine Harry's reaction to this new development. The other man, who had become a fairly close friend, would probably be equal parts ecstatic and furious. Ecstatic for obvious reasons, furious that his parents had been technically alive all these years, and buried in the ground.

Knowing James Potter in his childhood, although admittedly not as well as his brother had, Regulus could imagine that the Potter patriarch would undoubtedly be equally as enraged. At least on his wife's behalf. He had always been more concerned for her well being than his own, being headstrong and reckless by nature. Regulus pondered this, as he lay beside Hermione in bed that night.

————

_St. Mungo's_

—

Sirius and Severus sat in a tense silence, watching their friends unresponsive forms. The color was slowly beginning to return to their faces, and the warmth to their bodies, their hearts beating slow and steadily on the projected monitors Pansy had shown them how to cast.

"You never said anything," Sirius accused quietly, not looking at the man beside him, "all this time, all these years. Not one word. But. You. Knew. Why?" His face was contorted with silent rage, breathing hard, but he was trying valiantly to control himself for once.

Snape laughed bitterly, "I tried to tell Dumbledore once, that night. But he was so concerned with the prophecy... not to mention the fact that he didn't believe me... I didn't dare mention the horcruxes, maybe that would have helped... but could you imagine what that old fool would have done with the information?! There was a reason Nicholas had the philosophers stone not Albus, despite the fact that he assisted greatly in its creation." He sighed, standing to pace, his robes billowing dramatically, "I tried to revive them. But I couldn't." A swift turn sent his robes billowing again, as he continued, "I was convinced it was a complete failure, the one time it counted."

Snape was silent a moment, but the other man didn't dare interject. Knowing full well this deeply brooding monologue was not yet finished, despite the silence. So he sat in silence, watching the billowing black robes follow the brooding dark wizard, like some excessively dark, and rather voluminous shadow.

And suddenly, the pacing man stopped. He turned them, an unreadable expression on his face as he looked into the eyes of one of the men he had professed to hate, repeatedly and with passion, at that. When Severus Snape spoke next It was nothing more than a whisper. "I never could figure out how it worked," he confessed, "In bringing Draco back... I... well, I used muggle cpr and a well placed renervate or two, that was it. I tried to figure it out using the spell to activate a horcrux, but the process we used for the anticrux only resulted in an equally repulsive ceremony."

The pacing began anew, the potions master thinking out loud, "What are the opposites of the bone of the father, the flesh of the servant and the blood of the foe?" He asked rhetorically, "Are they the flesh of the child, a willing sacrifice and the tears of a friend— the memories of the child, the blood of the master and the flesh of a friend? And the final question being: was I willing to go to those lengths to find out? No."

This was absolutely ridiculous, Sirius decided. It was obviously not Severus' fault, he'd just been looking for someone to blame in a situation he didn't fully understand. Now he'd just lost possibly hours of his life listening to the innermost thoughts and feelings of the dungeon bat. Sirius opened his mouth, intent on shutting the greaseball up, but was cut off before he could do so.

"Snivellus, for Merlin's sake! Stop traipsing about like a hippogriff in a parade!" A voice said weakly, "I think I need a hangover potion... my heads bloody killing me."

————


	32. Right on the Nose

————

**Chapter Thirty-Two**

—

_Right On the Nose_

————

Two bodies rose from their chairs hurriedly, rushing towards the source of the commentary. "James!" Sirius shouted, disbelief coloring his features.

Simultaneously, the figure on the hospital bed shot up, gasping, "Harry!" Regardless of the fact that his wand was nowhere near his person, James Potter promptly disappeared.

"Shit!" Sirius exclaimed in exasperation, falling on the now empty bed, "Think anyone will notice a naked, supposedly dead, man roaming Godrics Hollow yelling frantically for the savior of the wizarding world?" He asked the other man hopefully.

Snape scoffed, rolling his eyes. "No. Sounds perfectly normal to me... of course they'll bloody notice!" He sighed tiredly, "We need to tell Regulus and Hermione... and probably Potter...uh, Harry. Someone is bound to tell him if they see James." He looked at the figure in the other bed as he spoke. Lilly Potter, radiant as ever, still slumbered peacefully. Her chest rising and falling with each breath, a new and welcome change from her previous state of stillness. "I'll summon them."

Raising his wand, Sirius beat him to it, casting a patronus and instructing it to tell Hermione and Regulus of the newest development, then telling them to bring Harry to them. As the glowing grimlike dog disappeared, Sirius smirked, "Beat ya to it."

"Good dog." Snape deadpanned, "Now go fetch your friend... get him some clothes too! I'm sure his son wouldn't want the first hug he remembers from his parents to be... awkward." Watching in relief as Sirius simply saluted him sarcastically, before going to do as asked.

Now alone in the room with his first friend, Severus took a seat on the empty bed next to her. Softly stroking her hair, he ruminated on his past failures when it came to their friendship, vowing to never repeat them. They both, it appeared, would be getting a second chance at the life they deserved. He, for one, was not willing to waste it. Especially now that he was neither tied to the dark nor the light side of any conflict.

————

_Grimmauld Place_

_—_

The patronus they'd been waiting for had finally come, although it was not the message they had been expecting to hear. This was turning into quite the mess. James Potter, presumed dead and buried for years, was alive and running around the equally muggle and wizarding village of Godrics Hollow. Oh, and he was naked.

"I'll let the twins know, you get Harry," Regulus declared, producing his wand and sending his jaguar off with a message to the twins, while he also tried to put on pants one handedly. The twins would be amused at the quality of that particular message, as it sounded...well, honestly it sounded like something less wholesome was going on during its inception.

Hermione smirked at her wizard, hopping off the bed and summoning a red sundress from her closet. Throwing the dress over her head, she strutted out of the room to find her best friend. "Next time, pants first," Hermione winked at the gaping man as she left.

Apparently he hadn't realized how he sounded, but got the message loud and clear. Judging by his groaned, "Merlin! I'm never going to live that down." Summoning a shirt, he threw it on quickly, leaving it unbuttoned as he sank to sit on the bed.

Fred's Hyena briefly made an appearance, laughingly relaying that they got the message "loud and clear" and would join the search party momentarily. Regulus let out another loud groan just as Hermione returned, Harry groggily following behind her.

The bespectacled man raised an eyebrow half heartedly. "What's wrong with you?" He asked Regulus.

"Twins!" He groaned again. "Never send a patronus with a message while putting on pants!" Regulus advised Harry sagely.

Harry chuckled, "Usually when I have to send a patronus with a message I'm in danger or headed towards it, and therefore already wearing pants. But I'll keep that in mind." His expression grew serious. "Why did you have to send a twins a patronus at this hour? The suns not even up yet..."

Nudging Harry to sit on the bed, than taking a seat next to him, Hermione eased her way into this conversation. "Remember the way Sirius and Snape took off last night?" She asked. At Harry's nod, she continued. "They found who they were looking for. And apparently had some success with the potion, but there's been a — complication, if you would."

"What did Sirius do?" Harry asked, rolling his eyes. Snape was a potions master after all, he reasoned, it had to be his irrational godfather at fault in this situation.

Hermione opened her mouth to reply, when a patronus burst into the room. "Hermione, Harry's gone insane! He's starkers in Godric's Hollow, ranting and raving, looking for himself!" Ron's voice declared, "Come quick! They've had to call obliviators already."

The man in question looked confused, very very confused. He wasn't in Godric's Hollow, hadn't been since leaving the twins place last night! He knew that, Hermione knew that. "What's going on?" He demanded, standing from the bed and looking accusingly at his best friend. "It's obviously not me out there... is this the complication you were talking about?"

Hermione sighed, nodding, "It's not you, you're right. Obviously. But he is looking for you. Sirius said he woke up and the first thing he did was wandlessly disapperate to find you. Harry, your dad is alive."

"And he thinks... oh..." He sank to the floor, pulling his glasses off to rub his eyes before continuing, "He thinks it's still that night..."

Nodding in confirmation, Hermione held her hand out to her friend, "C'mon boy wonder, up you go!" She pulled him to his feet, "You have two options, a. You go to Mungo's to wait with Snape or b. You come with Regulus and I to find your father... just keep in mind his current state of... confusion."

The boy who lived looked thoughtful for a moment, before asking hesitantly, "What about my mother?" He refused to meet her eyes.

"Severus is with her in Mungo's, she's alive, but not awake yet." Regulus answered carefully, placing a hand on the other man's shoulder. "It's up to you Harry, but we need to get going to Godric's Hollow. If you're coming, better get to it, we can't have your shining image of sanity tarnished."

Harry laughed halfheartedly, "Oh no, we wouldn't want that... the papers have been trying to do it for years though. Haven't succeeded yet." The green eyed man sighed, "Meet me at Mungo's. Don't give him too much of a heart attack, please, I'd truly like to meet my father." Regulus laughed and nodded his head, as Hermione wrapped Harry in a quick hug before grabbing her wizards hand, and apparating them to Godric's Hollow.

————

_Godric's Hollow, Potter Cottage_. 

—

The scene upon their arrival was complete chaos. People were huddled in groups watching the situation unfold. A man, looking very much like Harry Potter, was running around inside the ruined cottage that had housed the Potter family once upon a time. "Harry! Harry, where are you?! Harryyy?!" Echoed frantically as the man searched room by room for his missing son, completely uncaring that the whole world was witnessing his nakedness through the bare windows.

Ron, catching sight of the newly arrived witch and wizard, visibly sighed in relief, "Blimey, Hermione, you sure took your time!" He exclaimed, "No one can get in, he's trigged some kind of wards or something... Bill's on his way, but he's got the little ones to sort out first."

Hermione sighed, "Potter men! They're all so difficult!" Ron cocked an eyebrow at the wording, as she drew her wand.

"Patronus won't work," Ron warned her, "tried it a minute ago, and the darn thing disappeared in the completely wrong direction."

Disregarding the warning issued, Hermione proceeded to cast her patronus, "James Potter, please let down the wards, Harry is alright. We can take you to him, but you need to know a few things first." She said, adding a hasty, "oh and please, for the love of Merlin, put some pants on!" Before sending the glowing otter on its way.

Jaw dropped, Ronald Weasley watched the otter swim through the wall of Potter Cottage, directly towards its intended recipient. "Wait—" he whispered, "James?"

Regulus, silent until now, clapped the red head on the back heartily, "Good news mate, your patronus isn't broken, and your hearing is fine!" He joked, "Harry's probably having a nice laugh at Mungo's, waiting for his dad to make his grand re-entrance." He laughed, watching Ron's eyes blink repeatedly in disbelief.

They felt, rather than saw, the wards drop. Sirius darted through the door, followed closely by Hermione. "James!" The animangus yelled, taking the stairs two at a time. "It's Sirius, I'm coming up!"

They found him in the nursery, on his knees in front of the weathered crib, staring at the peeling wallpaper above it. "What happened here?" He asked Sirius, unable to believe what he was seeing. "It's just... it's ruined... I can't raise a child here! There's nothing left!"

Sirius threw his arms around his oldest friend. Comforting noises that felt strange coming from him, making their way to James's ears. "He's gone, James. Voldemort. He's gone. And Harry did it." He consoled the man.

"Mr. Potter," Hermione interrupted, tossing a pair of jeans at him that Sirius had dropped in his haste to get to his friend. Turning around to let him dress in privacy, she continued speaking. "I wish we were meeting in better circumstances sir, but I'm Hermione Granger. Harry is one of my closest friends. What do you remember of a spell that you and your wife helped Severus Snape to create?"

She heard him freeze behind her. "The spell?" He gasped, "What about it? What's that got to do with— wait, Harry's friend? Aren't you a little old to—"

"That night, Voldemort was let into this house by Peter," Sirius said brokenly, "He got you downstairs, as you tried to buy time for Lilly to get Harry out of here. He was faster than expected. Caught up to her here, in this very room. She put up her best shields around Harry, sacrificed herself to save him." He took a deep gasping breath, "When I arrived, I found you both. Harry was in his crib, a cut on his forehead, no Voldemort in sight. You know who had cast an avada at him, and because of Lilly's lingering magic, it rebounded, striking and killing the former dark lord."

James laughed, "Nice try Sirius. Clearly I'm not dead."

"The spell worked," Hermione asserted, turning around to address the wizard directly. "Everyone thought you were dead. You, Lilly, Snape. Until a potions trial at Mungo's proved that Snape was not dead. Snape retrieved you and your wife. And upon waking you left before anyone could explain to you— the fact that a fair amount of time has passed."

Her eyes softened looking at the man that could pass for her best friends twin brother. "Harry is waiting for you back at Mungo's. We just told him this morning, as we weren't sure how the potion would work... after such a long time. He's instructed me to not give you a heart attack, as he would like to meet his father— so you're not allowed to die, again, on my watch. Got it?"

He nodded miserably, trying to process what he had heard. He did remember the curse fired at him, but... he didn't feel like any time had passed. Come to think of it, Sirius did look older though, so it may well be true. "Let's go. Can't keep my boy waiting. Is Lilly...?"

"Alive, but still unconscious. At least that's last I've heard." Hermione answered, placing a hand on the man's shoulder. Turning to Sirius, she instructed him to accompany James to Mungo's while she let everyone know the crisis was averted. At Sirius' nod, she carefully made her way back down the ruined staircase, casting repairo's as she went just in case.

Regulus met her at the doorway. "They're on their way back to the hospital. Where's Ron?" She asked. He gestured to a small group of Aurors, speaking in hushed voices.

The onlookers had vanished while Hermione had been inside, thankfully. Striding over to the group she addressed them all at once. "Thank you all for your assistance. The man is on his way back to where he came from. His name is not Harry Potter, but James Potter. Harry's father. I'm sure there is more information to share, but that's all I feel comfortable saying at the moment. I will discuss it with Harry, and he will decide how much he wants everyone to know. I'm sure you'll be updated." She nodded, and dismissed the group, rolling her eyes as a figure appeared from the shadows. "Come with us Minister, I'm sure you'll be welcomed at Mungo's."

"James? —And Lilly, I hope?" Minister Shackelbolt asked, tears in his eyes. At Regulus' affirmative nod, he exclaimed "This is... fantastic news! Of course I'm coming, you couldn't keep me away!" Laughing, Hermione led the small group to the apparition point, arriving in the now familiar hallway with Regulus, Ron and the unusually emotional Kingsley shortly after.

————

_November 15, 1981, Albania_

_—_

It was dark and cold. Wind rushed through the branches of the gnarled trees that rose up from the darkness of the ancient forest that spanned as far as the eye could see. A squeak broke the silence, a dirty rat coming to the surface from where it had found a place to rest for the night, in the space between the exposed roots of an old tree.

Agonizingly slowly, the rat began to change. Elongating, bones and skin twisting and turning, the rat squealed in pain as it turned into something else. Someone else, rather. A man, in torn clothing, with dirt smeared across his face, stood where the rat had been.

"Master?" He whispered, searching in the darkness, his wand illuminating one sliver of forest at a time. "Master, are you here?"

The darkness was so all encompassing that a sudden flash of green light sent the man ducking behind the nearest tree. His limbs entangled with the gnarled roots, he fell to the ground with a thud. "Who's there?" He called shakily, brandishing his scuffed wand.

No answer. The man peered around the trunk of the tree, from his position on the ground. Seeing nothing, he stood, warily walking over to the spot where he though he saw the flash come from. "I could have sworn someone tried to avada me..." he laughed to himself, "my mind must be playing tricks on me."

Deciding that his Master was not in this section of the forest, the man went to move on. Strutting forwards, he suddenly found himself on the ground again. "What the—" he exclaimed, searching for the object that he had tripped over. His hands found the offending object, holding it up to the light streaming out of his wand.

"Prinkles?" He read, confusedly "What is a prinkle?" He asked, opening the lid. Seeing nothing entirely too strange, he shrugged his shoulders and decided to see if the objects inside were palatable. Based on the label, and how they looked they appeared to be edible, and he was starving.

Hesitantly, he placed a crisp in his mouth and relished the feel of food crunching under his teeth. "I on't ow what these are but they're ositively elightful!" He exclaimed. "Woah, wait a second..." he thought. His words didn't sound right. Shrugging, he continued his search.

"Master?" He called, "Are you here Master, it's eter... eter ettigrew..." He gasped, "I on't ow what's going on but I ow I didn't tal li that efore... I sound li blooy Hagri!"

Eyes the size of dinner plates, he decided to test the extent of the damage. "A... uh... c... uh... e...f...g...h...i...j... uh...l...m...n...o...uh...q...r...s...t...u...v...w...x...y... uh... that's not goo..." he sighed, "someone's laying tris on me! Sto laying aroun!" He yelled into the empty forest. Another flash of light, red this time, sent him diving for cover again. Tragically he lost his newly acquired food source in the process.

"Blooy fu'in hell!" He shouted, disapperating to somewhere he could pout in peace, even if he couldn't say it.

Eventually, he would learn how to make the most of his newly acquired speech impediment, but occasionally it was still a source of frustration for Peter Pettigrew. Years later, during the Triwizard Tournament at Hogwarts, for example. When he was completing the ritual to bring his master back to his true form.

It had all gone perfectly, he thought. A couple missed letters didn't matter, his master was standing before him. He looked completely restored to his former glory. That was, until he looked up. Red serpentine eyes, and holes where his nose should have been were definitely not part of the plan.

Deciding not to mention it, the man only bowed his head respectfully and said the most reverent "Master," he could manage in this particular circumstance, and attempting to express his relief in intelligible words, "I'm so hamney you've been restoret!"

"Looks like you did it Pettigrew," Lucius Malfoy tittered.

Nott joined in, elbowing his friend, "he got it right on the nose!"

The dark lord, unaware of how he looked, simply rolled his red eyes, and walked away. "Leave for a few years and they all lose their damn minds!" He muttered to himself, preparing to deal with the Potter brat once and for all.

————


	33. The Awakening

———— 

**Chapter Thirty-Three**

—

_The Awakening_

_

Fred and George were having a night. It wasn't a bad night, nor a good night. Just a very long, very strange night. They had spent the most recent portion searching for their friends father, previously thought to be deceased.

Now they were sitting in a waiting room at St. Mungo's, in case said friend needed additional moral support. He was meeting his father in the room across the hall after all. For the first time in he could remember.

Their younger brother Ron was sleeping nearby. His loud snores echoing in the otherwise eerily quiet hall.

Regulus and Sirius were huddled together, their whispered conversation barely audible through Ron's sleep noises.

Hermione had hurried into the room Harry had disappeared into, as soon as their group had arrived, ushering in the Minister of Magic with her.

As they watched, feeling like they were keeping guard of the room, the Minister reappeared. Wiping a tear from his eye, he nodded briefly in their direction before disapperating as quickly as he had appeared.

"Wonder what's going on in there." Fred murmured, yawning sleepily. His eyes were looking rather heavy, the events of the night appearing to be catching up with him.

George laughed, "They're having a tea party Freddie ol' chap, what else?" He held a pinky in the air and mimed drinking a cup of tea delicately, before sobering. "They're probably filling Mr. Potter in on all that's happened... and all Harry has been through. Which is also probably why the Black brothers are over there having such an intense discussion. Sirius definitely feels a lot of guilt from that period of his life."

Nodding his agreement, Freds eyes began to close of their own accord. "I would to," He murmured to his twin brother. "But he didn't do anything wrong." His voice had been quieter with each word. The last was almost inaudible, punctuated with a quiet sigh as he fell asleep.

"And then there was one," George chuckled, transfiguring his chair into something resembling a chaise lounge. Reclining himself on the comfortable seat, he closed his eyes to wait.

————

Blackness. That's all she had seen for... a very long time. But her thoughts were active. Her dreams, yes she had dreams often, were her only solace from the all encompassing darkness.

At first, when the darkness turned to a muted grey, she thought it was a dream. But, gradually the grey faded into lighter colors, and she began to hear things. She felt things. A warmth encompassed her that she hadn't felt in what seemed like forever. She could feel her heart beating.

If this was a dream, she never wanted it to end. At least, she hadn't, until she started hearing voices that were so familiar they made her heart ache. Sirius. James. Even Severus. Suddenly, she really wanted to see what was around her. If only she could remember how to open her eyes.

She heard a door open, a voice hesitantly proclaiming to be "Harry", followed by the sound of clothes ruffling, and muffled sobbing. A short while later, she must have dozed off again, the door opened once more. An unfamiliar female voice, and the unforgettable voice of her friend , and fellow order member, Kingsley Shackelbolt.

Still unable to open her eyes, she internally sighed, feeling her lips twitch. It was a start.

She heard Sirius' departure, listened to the most heartbreaking tale she had ever heard. A tale, she realized, was her own new reality. It had been a lot longer than she thought, she noted, as she heard Kingsley make his departure. Muffled conversation drifted through the room once more. Her fingers moved of their own accord, prompting her to test her boundaries by purposefully wiggling her toes too.

The woman's eyelids fluttered, briefly, letting in a flash of blinding light before slamming shut again. She breathed a deep breath, which must have been quite loud, as it drew the attention of everyone in the room.

"Lilly!" Two voices called, as one gasped "mum!". Another voice, the unfamiliar female, calmly began talking to her.

"Mrs. Potter, my name is Hermione Granger. I am a friend of Harry's. You've had an accident, quite some time ago, and a new potion we are testing has brought you back. You are at St. Mungo's" she explained gently, "If you can hear me, can you move your fingers or toes?"

Determinedly, Lilly Potter did as instructed. Laughs and murmurs of relief flooded her ears, as the girl began speaking again. "Good!" She exclaimed, "It should get better soon, the potion takes a while to kick in, to heal the damage from spells. You've been... gone for a number of years, so it's working very hard. Just relax and we will be right here waiting whenever you're ready."

"You're doing great, Lils!" Her husbands voice encouraged her. "We love you." He said, running his hands comfortingly down her arms.

"Tickles." She muttered groggily, frowning as the warmth from his hands disappeared. His laughter filled her senses. Oh, how she had missed that feeling.

"Hey mum, it's Harry." Her son said, he sounded so grown up. Unbidden, tears rushed to her eyes. She reached to wipe them away, unthinkingly.

"Keep going!" Hermione urged him.

He sighed, "I'm so happy to finally get the chance to meet you in person. I, uh, never thought I would. There was this one time I saw you and dad in a mirror... a magic one that shows you your hearts desire... but it wasn't the same. Another time, I saw you guys as ghosts... long story, but it's been, kind of weird, reconciling that with this reality, where you're alive.

And one more time, I saw you on the Hogwarts Express... you told me it wasn't my time, that I needed to go back to my friends. You... you saved me mom, dad too... it hasn't been easy without you guys, but you were never truly gone from my life." He laughed then, a truly glorious sound.

"And now we get to start again." He whispered, placing a hand on hers. She couldn't control her actions, as she flung her eyes open and wrapped him in a crushing hug. "Mum!"

She laid eyes on him for the first time since he was a small child, and it was like looking at a mirror image of her husband, only with green eyes. "Hello Harry!" She laughed, "Merlin! You're all grown up."

Her son nodded, his eyes tearing up as he returned her embrace. "It's so bright in here!" She whispered, then smiled gratefully as the witch that must be Hermione turned down the lights. "Thank you dear!"

"Anything for you Mrs. Potter, you gave me my best friend after all." The woman said, smiling indulgently at the boy— man, still wrapped in his mother's embrace. The room was full of smiles, even the dour potions Professor couldn't keep one off his face. It was startling how much it changed him.

The door opened, causing all eyes to turn to see who was daring to interrupt this beautiful moment. The Minister, it seemed, had returned. And he was not alone.

"Andromeda!" Harry called to the woman beside the Minister, "What brings you here?" He couldn't think of a reason she would be coming around, he'd never heard of her being particularly close to his parents.

Sirius' voice carried from just outside the door. "We asked Kingsley to beg a favor from her. It's kind of... a tough one..." he said sorrowfully. A number of eyebrows raised.

"Sorry to interrupt," Andromeda said softly, "I just had to see it for myself... I needed to know there was hope, before I..." she trailed off, eyes roaming over the people in the room that she hadn't seen in years.

Harry was never good about waiting, not when there was something on his mind. And he did have a lot on his mind at the moment. "What kind of a favor, Sirius?" He demanded, wondering just what else was being hidden from him.

"Remus..." Sirius said haltingly unable to finish what he had been trying to say.

Severus took over with a long suffering sigh. "There's a chance that Remus performed the same ritual we did, or one close enough... Hermione has the same mark, and a stranger matching his description, helped deliver her on the side of the road near the area Grayback's pack was at that time." He explained, "We asked that Andromeda allow us to see if that was the case."

James Potters eyes crinkled in confusion. "Why would you need her permission?" He asked, echoing what his wife was thinking at the moment. One look from Sirius was all it took to suck the air straight out of him, "No..."

Lilly wrapped her husband in a hug, meant just as much to console herself as it was to comfort him. "There's still hope." She whispered in his ear, "Look at us, we are here."

"Voldemort came back." Harry said quietly, "He came back when I was in Hogwarts, using a ritual that needed my blood." He paused to let his parents digest this news, "At it's crescendo, I would have been in my last year of Hogwart, if I'd not been chasing Horcruxes. Dumbledore, Remus, Snape, and many others were lost during that dark time... but eventually it came down to him and me. Horcruxes gone, I was able to defeat him. Hopefully for good this time."

Hermione placed a hand on his shoulder. "As you can see, Severus is here today." She said, looking at Andromeda, "Lucius Malfoy noticed that while he appeared to be dead, there was something else at play. Noting that the side effect of a ritual between his son and Professor Snape, a mark, had not disappeared as it would have if he had been truly gone." She smiled briefly, "I made a potion that I came across in one of my ancestors books, that had never been tested. We submitted it here for trials, with significant amounts of success. Draco Malfoy was one of the participants. He made us aware of Snape's condition, and we transferred him here for treatment."

"After I awoke, I realized that the same fate may have befallen James and Lilly, and Sirius and I took it upon ourselves to liberate them." Severus declared, garnering an exaggerated eye roll, accompanied by a long suffering sigh, from the Minister of Magic. Shrugging, he continued, "When I explained about the marks, and Miss Granger asked to see them, she realized she had seen the mark before. We discussed possibilities for who may be the other half of the set, and Remus was the most likely option."

Hermione showed the older woman the mark in question, her eyes widening marginally. Andromeda nodded, "you have my permission, on one condition." Several sets of eyebrows raised, and she continued, "You have to take both of them. Call it a hunch."

"You heard the lady," Hermione commanded, blowing out a stream of hot air. "Sirius, take Reg. The wards will probably react better if family members are doing the disturbing. Also, I doubt that Snape actually wants to go anyway." The potions Professor nodded his agreement.

Shrugging, Sirius slunk from the room, followed by Andromeda and Kingsley. The later two had begun to get closer lately. To the surprise of... well, everyone. Both parties claimed it was purely platonic, but the Weasley twins had begun taking bets as to how long that would last.

"I have a feeling this is going to take some getting used to..." Lilly said, breaking the silence among the remaining people in the room. Hermione and Harry nodded their agreement. James however declared that was nonsense.

"We'll fit right in!" He exclaimed animatedly, "This all seems like one elaborate prank! Totally my style." He nodded his head sagely, waving his hands emphatically, to punctuate his statement. His wife sighed and chuckled, swatting at him playfully.

Harry, eyes wide whispered, "you have no idea..." then louder explained, "I'll have to deal with the fact that my parents look to be roughly the same age as me. And then there are the prophecies, and Hermione's brilliant truth or dare games that are lost in time." Lilly looked aghast, while James looked thrilled.

"There's no time for being melodramatic," Snape drawled, reminding them of his presence. "From what I have heard the so called 'prophecies' are rather... inconsequential. According to Miss Granger, whatever happens with the games has already affected our current timeline. Therefore you'll simply have to deal with the matter at hand."

James and Lilly had been searching for a mirror, to see if what they were saying was true. That would be rather awkward to explain. Remembering a looking glass spell, Lilly cast it wandlessly, taking in the image before her as it formed. She did look exactly the same as she had that night. "Well then..." she sighed, "Severus is right, we will just have to deal with it."

"On the bright side," James followed her statement, "We won't lose time with you, technically, as we have all these extra years now. Or we just age incredibly well... ha!" He gasped as an idea hit him, " Yes, that's it! Let's go with that one! We could sell anti-aging creams and potions, and make a fortune."

Lilly moaned, throwing her head into her hands, "Look what I have to deal with!" She exclaimed, "We _have_ a fortune James! We don't need to rip off the Wizarding world."

"Just a few?" He questioned, smirking. At Lilly's dark look he relented, "Okay, okay, no ripping people off. I got it." He turned to Harry, winking, and mouthed "she's no fun!" with a pout.

Hermione, watching the scene with a soft smile, decided that this was exactly what Harry needed. They were just so... perfect. It was sad watching Harry grow up with only the Dursley's to call family, but now... finally, he was catching a much deserved break. Excusing herself quietly, she left the little family to get reacquainted, Snape following her out into the hall, where he promptly disapperated.

Sirius and Regulus would be back soon, and she needed to prepare herself mentally for what that might bring to light. Hermione hoped that Severus' hunch was correct. Begrudgingly, she admitted that it seemed logical enough. But Dora... the spunky Auror may or may not be included. She couldn't bear to be the cause of more grief for either Remus or Andromeda, not to mention Teddy.

She gasped, "Teddy! That's it!" If Remus led the ritual for her, Dora could have, knowingly or otherwise, completed it at her sons birth. "Sneaky, sneaky Mr. Moony..." she breathed, trying to wrap her head around her thoughts.

Taking a seat next to George, Hermione slowly began to believe that this may not be the most terrible idea she had ever heard.

————

_Tonks Family Plot_

—

"For the record," Regulus said, huffing in agitation, "This is the worst idea I've ever heard."

His brother chuckled, accidentally covering himself in dirt. "You're just mad," Sirius retorted, "because you think I'll forget you exist once my group of friends is back together again."

Purposefully aiming a clump of sod at Sirius' head, Regulus turned to his brother. "I'm _not_ mad, this isn't Hogwarts." He said, rolling his eyes, "And I _do_ have my own friends."

"I do have my own friends," Sirius mimicked, shooting water from his wand at Regulus' feet. Laughing as he watched Regulus continue to dig his hole, unaware he was now surrounded in mud. "Mhmm, I'm sure Severus is very comforting."

Regulus went to stomp his foot in frustration, losing his balance as he pivoted in the mud. He fell, with a great squelching sound, sludge covering him from head to toe. "Sirius!" He yelled, eyes blazing. Putting his hands down to push himself up, he came in contact with a wooden surface. He smirked.

Now that he knew the hard part of his work was now done, he could be content in taking his revenge upon the stubborn git he called a brother. And thus, Regulus' attack began in earnest.

A silent spell rendered the dirt below Sirius to ice, causing his work to be much harder. As amusing as it was watching him struggle, it was nothing compared to the warming charm he placed strategically on him.

A spell cast, grunting with effort. A wipe of the brow. Another spell, another grunt, then Sirius began fanning himself nonchalantly. "C'mon Sirius, so close," he gave himself a pep talk, causing Regulus to hurriedly muffle his laughter.

Transfiguring all the sticks in sight to worms, Regulus carefully levitated them into the hole Sirius was in, when he was to busy wiping his brow again to notice. Another spell, and Sirius froze. "They can't hurt you..." He whispered, "they don't have teeth, they're just slimy... wriggly... _terrifying_ little..." Sirius swallowed a lump in his throat, "just a little further..."

When Sirius stopped again to fan himself, Regulus cast a multiplying spell, watching in satisfaction as the irrational terror on his brothers face began mounting. "_There's_ _more_... where are these _beasts_ coming from!?" He gasped in a high pitched whisper scream.

Another spell, less effective due to his distraction, and he was almost hyperventilating. He closed his eyes, valiantly trying to continue his task, and Regulus cast an _engorgio_, making the worms grow into grotesque, slimy, snakelike beings.

That was it. Sirius shot out of the hole, screaming like a lunatic, task completely forgotten. "What's the matter?" Regulus called innocently, as Sirius bent over trying to catch his breath.

Levitating the box out of the ground, Regulus wiped his hands on the only clean spot left on his shirt. "Almost done?" He asked, raising an eyebrow. Sirius just shook his head, pointing at the hole he had abandoned.

Stalking over and peering in, Regulus cast a wordless _finite_, "What's with all the sticks? Trying to start a fire or something?"

"_Sticks_?!" Sirius yelped, rushing back over, "They're evil! _Evil_, I tell you! All _squirmy_ and _innocent_ like they're just waiting for you to let your guard down before they _wiggle_ down your throat and _kill you_!" He hesitantly peered into the hole, gaping at the image before him. "Oh."

He cleared his throat, adjusing the collar on his shirt, "right, sticks... uh, I mean, I was just getting some air... it's... is it hot out here?" He asked, pulling off his shirt, trying to change the subject.

"Stop slacking, Sirius!" Regulus muttered, easily spelling dirt from the hole and finding the wooden box they were searching for. "There, that wasn't so hard, now was it?" He asked, chuckling while levitating the box to sit beside the first. "Check the caskets," Regulus commanded, "they're your friends and it's your bloody idea of fun."

Exasperated, Sirius walked over to them. "If there are any _worms_... I'm done! I'll take the whole box, I swear to Merlin!" Hesitantly, he opened the first lid, sighing in relief when he instantly saw the mark he was looking for upon his friend. Nodding, he went for the second box. Same. A breath he didn't know he had been holding came rushing out of him. "Let's get them to Mungo's." He said tiredly.

Saluting his brother sarcastically, Regulus did as he was told. Levitating the still form of his cousin Nymphadora, towards the closest floo. Sirius followed, an equally still Remus Lupin floating at his side.

————

_St. Mungo's, Testing Trials Department_

—

A squelching sound jolted Hermione awake. She didn't remember falling asleep, but she obviously had at some point. Looking around, she tried to discern where the sound was coming from.

"What _is_ that?" Asked George tiredly from beside her. She shrugged in response.

A voice sounded from around the corner in the hallway, complaining, "Gosh, it's even hot in here!" A muffled chuckle was his only response.

"Sirius," George breathed, slumping back down in his chair. She nodded, standing up to greet them.

Neither of them, however, were prepared for the sight of the two men that came around the corner, levitating Remus and Tonks above the ground. "What in the..." George gasped, grinning in wonder.

"Regulus, why are you covered in mud?" Hermione asked, narrowing her eyes. She looked at Sirius then, noting the sweat soaking what was left of his clothes, remnants pooled on the floor, like a trail of breadcrumbs showing where he had walked. "And why is Sirius sweating like that?"

She cast a cooling charm, only succeeding in making steam billow off her best friends godfather. "_Finite_," She said steadily, watching as the color in Sirius' face began to turn back to normal. "I see..." she spoke lowly, looking between the two smirking brothers,"Now that, whatever that was, is out of your systems... we have work to do!" Hermione clapped her hands together and turned to lead the way back into the room where Harry and his parents were waiting.

Regulus made an indignant noise, "What about _me_?!" He squawked, rushing behind her with a quick series of squeaks and squelches.

She didn't even turn around. "I've come to expect this level of immaturity from Sirius." Hermione laughed, "_You_ on the other hand, are a big boy. And big boys can clean up their own messes." At this she threw her head over her shoulder, pausing momentarily, "I assume you know the spell, or do I have to teach you?" Winking, she resumed her fast pace to the door, flinging it open hurriedly.

"It's hard to levitate someone and cast a scourgify, you know." the younger Black brother sighed mournfully, picking up his pace. As soon as his cousin was resting on the hospital bed, Regulus cast the scourgify he had been dying to cast for a painfully long time. He sighed in relief as the thick mud, that had started to dry in a very awkward, plaster like manner, disappeared. "So much better."

It was then that he noticed a pair of unfriendly eyes gazing upon him. "What is _he_ doing here?" James Potter all but spat, shooting a questioning glance at Sirius.

Regulus shrugged nonchalantly, not giving his brother the time to answer. "How many reasons would you like James? Let's see... in no particular order: The woman I love is saving your friends lives at the moment, my brother is here and I happen to support him, one of my very dear friends is in the room waiting to see the fate of people he cares about," he took a deep breath, mentally counting down from ten before continuing, "my cousin is laying on a bloody hospital bed after all but dying and being buried, oh and Remus and I weren't enemies exactly so I kind of care about his fate too." He stared challengingly at the most annoying Potter in the room, waiting with baited breath for his response.

James scrunched up his nose, rolled his eyes and gave a resounding huff, "Ugh, fine, whatever. Carry on, if you must."

"Dad!" Harry groaned, "Stop being a git. Regulus is my friend, he's marrying my best friend, and he's Sirius' brother. Play nice, or be quiet." James raised an eyebrow at his only son, impressed with his cheek.

Lilly stood quickly, attempting to look her son in the eyes. "Harry Potter, despite the truth you speak, you don't talk to your father that way!"

Unfortunately for Lilly, her son was quite a bit taller than her. He just chuckled fondly and patted her on the shoulder. Parenting a child that was as grown up as she was... was going to be an adjustment from the way things were. The realization caused her lips to turn in a pout. "We will discuss this later... when you're sitting down!" She declared, pursing her lips, causing laughter to chorus throughout the room.

"Yes, mum." Harry replied cheekily, with an accompanying wink that led to Lilly throwing her hands up in the air.

She turned to James, pointing a finger in his direction, "I blame you for this! That is totally, and throughly you." He nodded proudly, accepting he accusation as a compliment.

Hermione shook her head, turning to her friend, and former potions Professor. Waving her wand, she summoned two rounds of potions, adding a muscle relaxer and pepper up to the mix after thinking about how Severus, James and Lilly had been upon waking.

Beside her, Regulus conjured the monitors above his cousin and her husband. James tried to stop his spellwork, assuming he was up to something nefarious, but was quickly restrained by Sirius. "This will show us what is going on inside them," Regulus explained, hoping that it would ease some of the tension.

Hermione nodded approvingly, smiling at her lover softly. "Yes, now we will administer the potion— magically— and as soon as it appears to be taking effect, we will give them the muscle relaxing potion, followed by the pepper up."

Lilly nodded, interested in the process, rolling her eyes at James, who just looked bored. "Have you thought of including a warming charm? Or something to stimulate blood flow?" She asked Hermione shyly.

Thoughtfully, Hermione hmm'ed. "I had not, but it's not a bad idea." She mentally went through a list of spells and potions that could be useful.

"I just remember feeling very cold, despite the blanket. I've been told poor circulation can have that effect..." Lilly explained quickly. "Maybe... a blood replenishing potion? That's about all I can think of at the moment. The wizarding world has plenty of potions for obscure or pointless things, but very few for common applications."

Hermione laughed, "That is true. We could try the blood replenishing potion. And a warming charm." Summoning the additional potion she realized something, and gasped. "He's a werewolf! How could I have forgotten... I need another vial of the potion."

Seeing all the questioning looks, Hermione sighed and smiled guiltily. "Uh, so this potion..."

"It's kind of a big deal." Regulus said, taking over, "Almost a miracle, cure all." He waited as she summoned another vial of Pegasus Tears. They simultaneously administered the potions to Remus and Dora, then together they slathered the remaining vial onto Remus' body.

"Why are you rubbing the gunk on him again? And why aren't you rubbing it on her?" James asked, both he and Sirius looking at them calculatingly.

Hermione smiled sadly, "He's a werewolf." She sighed and continued, "The potion will be worse for him. Tonks shouldn't feel much of anything, but Remus... it's going to take a while for the wolf to come out." She looked into each of their eyes in turn, first Harry, then James, landing on Sirius as she spoke again. "You see, the Pegasus Tears potion... it cures lycanthropy. We tested it on Grayback last week. It's not exactly pretty to watch though, much twisting and sweating... perhaps some retching. Smoke comes out, you see the wolf, then it's gone." They we're shocked speechless. Jaws dropped, and everything.

"That's how it went for him, at least," Regulus said slowly. "It's not a full moon today, nor is it night. This could be completely different." He pointed out.

Hermione gasped, he was right! She definitely needed to take notes this time. Not only because of the use of additional potions, but because of the different circumstances all around. As stressful as the trials were, this was the kind of thing Hermione lived for. It was exhilarating. "You're right... so everyone just...expect the unexpected."

At that, she administered the blood replenishing potion. Having read Severus' carefully written notes, she saw no changes had kicked in until James and Lilly's blood started moving again. Maybe this would jumpstart that process.

"Is it wrong that I'm excited?" Lilly asked quietly, drawing a chuckle from her husband.

Harry looked between his mother and best friend. "It's like there are two Hermione's in this room!" He gasped, "Merlin help me, I won't survive it." Hermione stuck her tongue out at the man she considered a brother.

"Harry's right though, that does sound an awful lot like me! Feel free to be excited, throw ideas out, or if you notice something I don't then please, let me know!" She laughed in earnest, excited to have another scientific minded female around. Nodding vigorously, Lilly edged her chair closer.

Three sets of eyes studied the monitors closely, watching as blood began rushing through the veins of both Tonks and Remus. Their hearts beginning to pump at a frantic pace.

"Maybe the muscle relaxer now? It looks like that sped up the process." Lilly offered her opinion.

Hermione nodded, looking over their physical bodies. "As soon as they begin breathing, I think. Oh... look! Remus has goosebumps." She turned to the other bed, "Tonks doesn't."

"He's a werewolf, maybe his body processes the potions more quickly. Or maybe that's how the shedding of the lycanthropy begins when the moon is absent." Regulus said. "Should I do the warming charms while you two do the potions?"

"Please?" Hermione smiled, pecking him on the lips, "You really are a good boy." She winked, opening the vial of muscle relaxer. Lilly followed suit next to her, and then they patiently waited for the moment to spell the potion into their respective patients. Regulus waving his wand fluidly, in the mean time, sending warmth towards his cousin, then her husband.

As their chests began to rise and fall, Hermione and Lilly sprang into action. Lilly copying Hermione's movements exactly. "Pepper up when their eyes begin to twitch." Hermione said, looking at Lilly, "At least that's when you seemed to need it the most."

"Sounds like a plan to me." The other woman said, smiling serenely. "This is fun. Well, not so much the part where my friend is dead-ish on a table, but working with another smart, confident woman."

"Brilliant, but scary, both of them." Harry muttered, all the males in the room nodded their agreement. The women gave a long suffering sigh.

Lilly leaned in conspiratorially, "they love it." Looking at the closest monitor, she gasped. "I think somethings happening" She whispered excitedly.

Turning quickly, Hermione saw the stats changing before her eyes. Visibly, nothing was different, but there was definitely something going on. "Something is definitely happening here..." she confirmed. Turning to the other bed, she gasped, "And with Remus, although it's... different."

The former Defense teacher was sweating profusely, thick silver droplets running down his body, splashing down to the ground. The goosebumps, more pronounced than they had been before, appeared to be moving under his skin.

James looked a little green, "that's... _disgusting_!" He managed to choke out, gagging.

"I was going to say awesome," Sirius quipped, looking intently at the scene happening in the hospital bed, "but yeah, it is a little gross too." He patted his adopted brother on the back, murmuring, "It's gonna be ok Prongs," comfortingly, before turning to Hermione to confirm, "Right?"

She nodded distractedly, eyeing the monitor above Remus' bed. His stats were elevated, more than they should have been, but not exactly alarmingly so. "It's all part of the process." She placated.

The droplets on the floor were forming puddles. Puddles which were combining, of their own volition, into one large pool of water. It grew and grew, until it resembled a ball, rising slowly into the air. "Woah!" Hardy gasped, watching the display.

Fog poured from Remus' slightly open mouth, his nose, even his ears, swirling around the silver ball. "It's the moon! And the fog is like the sky..." Lilly observed, as more silver drops rose to join the rest. It was like watching rain, in reverse, as the drops rose in the air, one by one.

"It's beautiful..." Sirius sighed, before shaking his head, coughing, "uh, I mean, yeah, that's cool!" Luckily for him, everyone else was too caught up in the sight before them to take much notice of his bad boy persona slipping.

It was in the process of checking to see if anyone had seen or heard his uncharacteristic reaction, that Sirius noticed his cousin flailing on the bed. "Bloody hell! Hermione!" He shouted, gesturing at Tonks wildly. Rushing to her side he began stroking her hair, vaguely noticing its pale blonde color, one he hadn't seen on her since she discovered her ability to change it.

"How did she die?" Hermione asked Harry, hoping he had heard, "I know it was the war... was it a spell? I can't remember!" He raised his hands, shaking his head in a manner that conveyed he didn't know either. "Ugh, help me get her undressed," she called to Lilly, spelling a magical barrier between them and the boys.

They worked quickly, scanning for anything that they could have missed. Nothing of note came to their attention.

"Oh! Hermione...It was Bellatrix!" Harry cried from the other side of the barrier, suddenly remembering. Hermione groaned, realizing that the deceased witch had had many specialties.

At least they had some members of her family around, who had grown up with access to much of what she had. One of them, at least, had actually studied it in earnest. "Regulus!" Hermione yelled, covering Tonks with a blanket to preserve her decency. She dropped the barrier, allowing him to come through.

"I need your knowledge, love." She said pouting at the fact that she, for once, wasn't the one with the answers. "Any way to figure out what Bella did to Tonks here? There are no markings from spells, no cuts or anything... I'm not sure if I need to let it run its course, or if we need to apply potion anywhere. I just... I don't know!" Hermione ended in a sigh.

Raising his wand, Regulus got to work. "Don't worry, I'll see if I can't get it sorted out." Spells were flying from his lips, most in languages she had never heard before. "We really are quite the pair, between the two of us we always know the answers." He teased after a few moments, winking at her. She chuckled, feeling a little better, but still tense.

"Wait... is there any curse less dark than an avada in the Blacks repertoire?" Hermione wondered aloud. Regulus lifted an eyebrow questioningly, still casting diagnostic charms. "I mean, think about it." She started, "Tonks was light, Bellatrix was dark. It was war and she wanted to win, since they were on different sides she couldn't just... leave her to come after them. But Tonks was her sisters child. Estranged as they may have been... do you think she could have pulled off a merciful kill?"

He exhaled, pausing his spell work. "I mean... Bella was unhinged, and not exactly sentimental," he admitted, "but yeah avada-ing a family member would be a bit outside of the norm for the family. There may have been a spell meant to deal with squibs... its not exactly advertised or anything.

Regulus ran a hand through his hair, stroking his goatee as he explained, "The laetus curse, laetus moriar if we are being specific, must be cast directly at the heart. It, literally, means to die happy. It could have been Bella's twisted way of honoring her sister, while insulting her niece."

"Making sure she died happily, so Andromeda would know she didn't suffer. At the same time implying that Tonks, despite her ability to do magic, was nothing more to her than a squib, as she was a 'dirty halfblood'. That sounds about right..." Hermione mused, summoning another vial of potion. "So this would be applied over her heart?" She asked.

Regulus nodded in confirmation, shaking his head at the lengths his cousin would go through over blood purity. "Otherwise, I found no trace of poison or internal cursing. It's the best shot we've got." He shrugged, "If she wasn't dead, I'd kill her myself... if it wouldn't make me just as bad as she was."

"I'd do it for you, she's not my family." Hermione grinned dangerously, "Plus, I owe her for a lovely cursed cut that bled for years, literally."

Tonks struggle abated slowly, eyes fluttering peacefully beneath her lids. Lilly dutifully administered the pepper up potion, then they turned to check on Remus' condition.

The silver moon, surrounded by fog was still hovering in the air. It had been joined by a white wolf, who was happily circling the moon, howling silently. As they watched, the last bit of silver liquid dropped from Remus' fingertips, and the white light ceased flowing from his mouth. Running faster and faster, the wolf circled the moon, causing the fog to swirl.

Howling in a crazed manner, the wolf began to blur, becoming a streak of white light, engulfed in a shroud of swirling, churning, fog. And then, suddenly, it stopped, exploding in a shower of silver and white specks.

Hurriedly, Hermione banished them into a large jar, where they settled to the bottom like brilliantly shining dust. She wiped her hands on her dress, "well... that's that..." she nodded resolutely, checking the monitor for any signs of distress.

Finding none, she noted that his eyes were moving beneath his lids, and administered his pepper up potion. "And now," She said, looking at all the gobstruck faces in the room, "we wait."

Sirius, James and Harry began a hushed conversation, excitedly flapping their arms about. Lilly was awestruck next to Hermione, "This is all so... unbelievable... even if it's happening before my eyes."

"I know. We've been testing for weeks, and it's still just as awe inspiring for me." Hermione admitted, placing a hand on the other witches shoulder, "I'm so happy for Remus though. I was so sad when I realized that the potion worked for lycanthropy, but he wasn't here to be able to use it."

The other woman nodded her agreement, her red hair bouncing along with her head. "I'm sure he will be thrilled," she said, smiling serenely, "although knowing Remus he wouldn't believe you when he told him."

"I'd believe anything you say Lilly Pad, people can't lie on the other side right?" Remus said groggily, struggling to sit up. "Although this isn't what I thought the great beyond would look like..." he gasped, covering his mouth. "Harry! No... no no no... we lost! Volde— he won?! Teddy...!"

What a change had passed over Remus within the past couple of hours. Where he once was white as a ghost, he currently was as red as a tomato. Shaking in anger, so upset that words weren't coming out, just angry hand gestures, and frustrated grunts.

"Professor—Remus!" Harry yelled, "Stop!" Rushing over to stand before the man, he looked him dead in the eye. "I'm not dead, he is. We won. Teddy is fine, he's with Andromeda."

Looking wildly around, Remus tried to make sense of what his eyes were seeing. People surrounded him, people that he knew were not all living. "How...? But James and Lilly, they died! Sirius, he went through the veil. And Regulus, supposedly dead too! I remember the battle, Dolohov... watching Dora... as Bellatrix... I just don't understand!"

"I don't understand either..." a new voice said, "I don't understand why you're being so loud Remus!" All head swiveled, most people in the room recognizing the voice instantly. Tonks was awake. "And why am I naked!?" She asked angrily, looking around for the first time. "Is this another prank!?" She accused Remus, "I think you may have taken it a little far this time."

Regulus began laughing, "It's been years since I saw you, Nymphadora, and you're still the same. Never change!"

She hmmphed in response, glaring at her husband. He held his hands up in surrender, "I didn't do it! I'm just as confused."

"I did it." Hermione interrupted, hands on her hips like she meant business. "Or rather both of you, and James and Lilly did it, and I just fixed it." At their confused faces, she asked a very pointed question. "Who here has done a ritual at the birth of a child?"

Shock sprang up on the faces of the two newest additions to the group, and begrudgingly they held up their hands, noting James and Lilly did as well. "What does that have to do with anything?" Tonks asked, going into Auror mode.

Hermione sighed, while Regulus, Sirius and Harry laughed quietly from their seats. "The anticrux ritual, is the opposite of the horcrux ritual. It uses good intentions and actions vs bad ones, but is essentially the same thing." She explained, beginning to pace, "However, unlike the horcrux ritual, Lilly, Severus And James created it, yet never got around to making the ritual to bring anyone back... therefore you all simply laid around looking for all the world like you were dead, like you were under the influence of the draught of living death potion, until Draco Malfoy of all people brought Severus' condition to my awareness when I started doing trials on a potion one of my ancestors created..."

"And here you are!" Sirius exclaimed, tackling his friend in a hug.

"I wasn't done, Sirius!" Hermione yelled, smacking him on the back of the head, "Sit, Padfoot!" He sat obediently where he was, which happened to be directly on Remus' lap. "Okay, not what I meant, but it will work."

Remus looked confused, "Okay... that explains that... but how is Sirius here? And Regulus?" He asked, gesturing to each brother in turn.

"That's a longer story," Regulus interrupted, "Involving the Weasley twins and an invention of Hermione's, not to mention time magic, hide and seek using draught of living death, oh and Black family magic that can release people from the veil."

Remus sensed a larger story, but he would wait until the proper time. "Carry on Hermione."

"Thank you!" She gasped, not liking the whole people interrupting her thing, "Anyway this potion is called the Pegasus Tears potion. It returns people to their original state, it's kind of a miracle cure all... which brings me to my next point... Remus..." she paused, looking at him intensely.

He frowned, suddenly stony faced, "Don't say it. Hermione, don't."

"We cured Grayback already, on the full moon." She rushed, ignoring his plea, "He thought he was going to get to rip me to shreds, watching gleefully as the moon rose. And suddenly his wolf came out to play, not in the manner he was expecting. Then... it was just gone. We all watched it happen again today— to you."

Taking a deep breath, she continued haltingly, "Look, Professor Lupin, you don't have to believe me. Wait for the moon, and see for yourself."

Hermione turned away from him, walking to Regulus, who wrapped her in a tight embrace. Turning to face them, her wizards arms around her waist, she spoke sincerely, "I'm so glad you're both back, we have missed you immensely! That being said, I really just need a break after all the excitement. So we are going to go home and sleep."

Tonks stood, walking to Hermione and placing her hand on her shoulder. "Thank you, Hermione. I, unlike my husband, believe you. And I'm so bloody grateful to know someone as annoyingly brilliant as you!" Hermione smiled warmly at the pink haired woman, tears pooling in her eyes as she reached out and gave her a hug.

"Now take my cousin and get some rest!" She mocked, laughing, "Yes, I do have eyes, you don't need to tell me there's something there, I could see the smoldering look in his eyes from where I was sitting, plain as day." The Auror winked at her red faced friend and smirking cousin, before walking over to her husband. Surreptitiously, she shoved Sirius over, and plopped herself down in Remus' lap.

"And suddenly," Harry announced, "life is back to normal!" A broad smile lit up his face.

Smiling back at him, Hermione and Regulus said their goodbyes and headed home, where they hoped to catch some sleep without anything strange or unexpected happening.

Harry and Sirius followed shortly after, when Andromeda and Teddy, accompanied by the Minister of Magic, showed up to see Tonks and Lupin. Each man departed to his own room, both too lost in thought to even think about conversing as they usually would.

All in all, at least to the residents of Grimmauld Place, it had been a thoroughly crazy day, but a good one nonetheless.

————


	34. Homecoming

_

**Chapter Thirty-Four**

—

_Homecoming_

_

It was time, Hermione decided. After all the madness brought on by the potion trials recent success had died down, it was time get back to work. That is, her actual job. Kingsley's mandate be damned. She had had her fun, made her mistakes, put an amazing potion through a very successful trial, but she needed to get back to the grind. If only to tie up numerous loose ends, before the Minister realized she was there.

Yes, she had been sneaking into the ministry whenever she was able, but it wasn't enough. She had been going nowhere fast for far too long, and it was very un-Hermione. Something had to give, and it surely wouldn't be the unflappable Hermione Granger.

And so, with her mind made up, Hermione rose from bed, got dressed in her official unspeakable robes, and headed to grab a quick breakfast. Or, she would have, if a pair of arms didn't grab her around the middle as she went to walk through the door.

"Where do you think you're going, Miss Hermione?" A voice whispered in her ear, as a face nuzzled her neck. Regulus. He was always so touchy feely in the morning. It was equal parts tempting and maddening.

Hermione nudged him away, "Duty calls, Mr. Regulus." She smirked, attempting to go about her way.

She thought she had made it too, when she didn't hear him follow her, assuming he had gone back to bed. Instead, halfway through her bowl of oatmeal, a fully dressed Regulus Black plopped down next to her. She raised an eyebrow, chewing her bite slowly and waiting for an explanation.

"I'm coming with you." He declared cheekily. "If you're going to mess with time magic, I want to see." He shrugged, "Plus, you know I find your big... brain... very attractive."

Laughing, she shot back, "Because it's surely not my fancy robes that you're eyeing when I'm not looking... they're terrible aren't they?"

He nodded emphatically. A plate of eggs materialized before him, and he ate as if he would never get the chance again. "Ministry food is terrible too." He explained quickly. She nodded back, he wasn't wrong on that point.

Contemplating momentarily, while munching her breakfast, she realized that he may prove useful to have around. He was fairly brilliant, after all. "I'll agree to your accompaniment, despite the lack of actually being asked to do so. But, we —the unspeakables— maintain strict protocol, and I don't know how 'bring your boyfriend to work day' would go over."

"Betrothed, fiancé, lover, the apple of my eye, my one and only, my wizard. Pick one. But I'm not your boyfriend, according to the ring on your finger." Regulus pointed out, "Plus, just call me... a consultant or something. I mean, technically, I was a subject of time magic... just look at me, I'm at least a decade younger than I should be." He grinned roguishly, "Which gives me an idea..."

Hermione groaned, muttering, "Here we go."

"Yes, we are going, dear." He agreed, "But anyway my idea— brilliant as it is— is that you say you're studying me! And then, when everyone leaves you alone to... do whatever it is you do when you study people, we conquer our dreams of sullying every possible space in the ministry."

She laughed mirthlessly, covering her eyes with her hand, wondering why this kind of thing always happened to her. "First of all, I'm not sullying anything, as you said. Second, I believe that sounds like _your_ dreams. Mine aren't usually so— crass."

"Usually?" He asked, eyebrows impossibly high. "Please share with the class, Miss Granger."

She rolled her eyes, "You can come with me." He cheered, "but only if you get authorization from the Minister. And promise that there will be no funny business." He sulked. "Right then! See you later!" She said breezily, standing up to apparate.

"Nu-uh, stay. I'll get permission." He said commandingly. Unbeknownst to Regulus, she really loved it when he talked that way. "You're lucky you're so darn irresistible. Otherwise, I'd still be asleep."

She scoffed, willing her blush to disappear. "Hey, this wasn't my idea," she shrugged, "Technically, I'm lucky either way."

"Touché." The younger black brother declared with a smirk, "You're getting better at your comebacks. I might actually have to work for it soon." He pulled his wand, and directed his patronus to let the minister know they'd be at his office shortly with a proposition.

Hermione shot him a questioning look. "What exactly are we proposing?" She asked, "I was going to sneak in, so he didn't know I was there. Then he couldn't kick me out! Now... what are you planning, dear, dear, apple in my eye."

"Nothing." Regulus singsonged, all but skipping away, calling, "and I believe the term is apple _of_ my eye. Not _in_ my eye." He was fully expecting the minister to force Hermione to go back home. But for her benefit, he would make a couple proposals to the Minister before he could do that.

Following him sullenly, she griped, "Not right now. You are definitely more like an apple _in_ my eye. Painful and unexpected." He chuckled heartily, stepping through the floo with her hot on his heels.

Exiting flawlessly, Regulus brushed off any stray ashes. He barely registered Hermione stumbling out of the floo, until she was flying towards him. Thanking his fast reflexes from being seeker for Slytherin in school, he caught her just in time. "Well, Miss Granger, you certainly are falling all over me today!" He joked, sending her a wink, "I thought you were the one who said we shouldn't sully the ministry?"

Blushing violently, she pulled herself from his arms, "If you know what's good for you, you'll stop talking... very quickly." She warned, speaking lowly. His only response was another wink, before he turned and led them to the Ministers office.

Kingsley was waiting at the door, smiling, "Hermione, Regulus, what can I do for you today?" He asked, ushering them inside and closing the door.

"Don't ask me." Hermione said, holding her hands up, "I was just going to come in and do some research. He decided he wanted to come with... this is his brilliant plan."

The Minister chuckled, eyeing the witch before him before turning to the dark haired wizard, "and what does this proposal involve, Mr. Black?"

"I'm so glad you asked, Minister Shackelbolt." Regulus answered, smiling wryly, "I would like to offer my services as a babysitter- er- consultant. As much as I would love to be an actual unspeakable, I fear the process would take far too long for what my dear Hermione is trying to achieve." The Minister raised his eyebrows questioningly, but remained silent. "My witch here, is trying to further her understanding of time magic. Yes dear, before you ask, I have read your files."

Hermione made a noise of indignation, opening her mouth to launch a full on verbal attack, however Regulus continued speaking before she could get a word out. She hmmphed but remained silent.

"Honestly, I think I have a lot to offer in this particular circumstance. What, with the vast knowledge of the Black family at my disposal. Including knowledge from several former unspeakables with not only portraits, but journals that only I know the location of." His smile was a full on smirk by this point, as he feasted on the looks of awe and surprise that were prominent on the faces of the people before him. "I am a Slytherin, I _do_ know how to keep some cards close to my chest."

Eyeing him wearily, the minister spoke, "and these sources are unknown to even ministry records, I presume?" Regulus nodded affirmatively. "Then I do believe an unspeakable would need to verify their contents, luckily you seem to be close with one of my most trusted unspeakables." Kingsley drawled jokingly, "I have one caveat."

"Name it!" Hermione burst in excitement, a blinding smile upon her face. His harebrained plan was actually working, much to her surprise and delight.

The Minister fixed her with a stare, speaking seriously, "it cannot happen in the Ministry." Her smile dropped.

"I don't... I don't understand, sir." She mumbled, looking at the ground.

Regulus voiced similar thoughts, "yeah, you lost me too. I expected a no, to be honest, but this is... like—yes, but no."

Kingsley Shackelbolt heaved a great sigh. Steepling his hands before him, he went into what appeared to be a monologue. "So, I am Minister of this great population of witches and wizards. My job is to look out for all of them, running an entire government smoothly, and in a timely manner. I have certain rules I must play by, as to what goes on in this building."

He turned and continued. "Lately, I have turned a blind eye to many happenings, but I can no longer continue to do so." Turning again he leveled Hermione with an unfathomable look, "As a friend, and someone who views you as a daughter, Hermione, I cannot allow you to wither in the dungeons, so to speak. Just look at what you have accomplished outside of them in such a short period of time!"

He turned to Regulus, "Don't get me wrong, she is brilliant, and I would love to lock her in the highest tower and preserve what's left of her innocence for all eternity. However, while she is in the office officially, she is doing nothing but reading dusty tomes, and thinking about theory. Which is why I forced her to take time off, as a test."

Hermione gasped, "you knew I'd have to find some way to occupy myself... I literally can't do nothing."

"Exactly!" Kingsley cried, "And while your comprehensive knowledge is admirable beyond words, it is your practical application of that knowledge that is the most valuable asset you possess. Your trip to America, where they do things a bit differently, put it into my mind and I admit I just kind of ran with it."

"What are you saying?" Regulus asked, confusion clear on his features.

Kingsley laughed boisterously, "I'm saying that Hermione has blossomed, since I kicked her out of the nest. And, that I like it. In fact, I want to see it continue." He smirked, "You two can continue your research, but you need your own— headquarters. I'm working on getting the department of time magic set up, but I've got international interest in the subject that I've been fielding. It's a bit more involved than I expected, to be honest. And a lot more complicated."

Minister Shackelbolt sighed, "They are requesting that we cease all official inquiry into the subject, until the other countries have a chance to become familiar with it. I think they're afraid we could use it as a vehicle for war, if we were so inclined. I mean, America for example, could theoretically find itself back under British rule and not even be aware anything had changed."

"I see... but we wouldn't do that!" Hermione cried, distressed by the thought alone, "How could they say we would do such a thing?!"

"They didn't." Kingsley admitted, a sad smile on his face, "But I'm sure it has crossed their mind. And the minds of countless other countries who have been in the same situation and barely won freedom. And while I loathe that they'd think we still live in mid evil times, I understand it."

"We can't turn my research over, in its entirety." Hermione said icily, "It's too dangerous to be in the hands of any ministry! Simply for the reason that it, theoretically, could be weaponized with disastrous results." She thought about it a moment, "Although, technically they couldn't go back and change anything, because anything that's meant to happen already has happened...They could use it to engineer loopholes for future discovery, returning America to British rule or, like Merlin, bringing lost families back from extinction."

The Minister was nodding thoughtfully, breathing deeply before concluding his idea, "Which is why I believe time magic should be a completely different entity than government. Products manufactured using its key elements will be regulated by the Ministry, like any other kind of product. Which is what the department of time magic will cover, eventually. But your work needs to be your own,"

Hermione wasn't sure she liked where this was going. This was far from the conversation she expected to have today. Wearily, she sat down in the nearest chair, listening breathlessly as her friend and father figure continued his statement. "...therefore I am releasing the Ministry's hold over your work, and notifying the other Ministry's that we will cease all study into the field within the ministry, citing its potential for misuse as too dangerous." His words sounded far away. What exactly was he saying?

Regulus, it seemed, had the same question, as he spoke what she was thinking aloud, "What are you saying here Kingsley?"

Sitting down behind his massive mahogany desk, Kingsley Shackelbolt rested both hands on the top of the desk, and spoke firmly. "Hermione Granger, I am releasing you from your official unspeakable duties, effective this moment. You will be on retainer to the office of the Minister of Magic, in an officially unspecified capacity, answering only to the Minister himself."

"You're firing me?!" Hermione exclaimed, shooting to her feet. The adrenaline in her body chasing away the far away feeling, replacing it with a razor sharp awareness of detail. The Minister was looking at her like she was a petulant child, at that very moment. It seemed as if she had missed something hidden in the wording, but what?

He blinked, once. Twice. A third time. Clearing his throat the older man spoke, "I'm not firing you, Hermione." He rolled his eyes, "I'm setting you free."

"By firing me!" She exploded, throwing her arm in the air.

Regulus came to put a hand on her shoulder. "I think, and correct me if I've misunderstood," he said quietly, "that the Minister actually just... promoted you?" The other man nodded approvingly, and Regulus continued, "At the same time giving you clearance for any information you need, to continue your research without the whole world losing their minds. It seems he doesn't want you to be seen as the next Grindelwald, and he's apparently had a reason to think that's what was coming next."

Kingsley gave a guilty smile. "I'm both pleased and afraid to say thatRegulus is correct." He sighed, "I need to be able to have plausible deniability... and you need to be able to focus on things other than meaningless mysteries. Like the potion... I've heard Lilly has ideas for more applications, and variations. Speaking of which, your involvement with the 'dead' returning has been generating a lot of... buzz. Not all of it good."

She groaned in frustration, "Especially considering the field I'm studying... I should have seen that reaction coming..." she admitted hesitantly. "What do I need to do?"

"Find a headquarters," he repeated his earlier statement, "build a team," he gestured to Regulus, "do amazingly brilliant things that the world has never seen before." The Minister shrugged.

Hermione laughed mirthlessly. "All in a days work, right?" Kingsley looked at her pityingly, but remained silent.

"I have an idea." Regulus said hesitantly. "Well, two." He clarified.

"See," Kingsley laughed, "you already have a functioning team member." Hermione shook her head, rolling her eyes, before gesturing for Regulus to continue his train of thought.

He briefly bowed his head, "Idea number one has to do with your prophecy. The part yet unfulfilled... namely one supposed castle. When someone says headquarters, that would be what I would think of. Not, for instance—at my friends house, or my handsome lovers deceased parents house." Hermione glared at him, sharply. Gulping, he moved on to idea two. "And failing that option, there is always Avalon. It is hidden, and all mystical... I'm just not sure if we should bring the unstable newness of time magic into the mix... the natives can be a bit, er, defensive."

Hermione laughed at his description of the elves that had rallied around Avalon to return it to its former glory. She could see his hesitation was based on a valid point. A point, named Daisy, who was very fond of the old ways and very much against change.

"Fine." She huffed, "We will check out the castle. But if there are singing birds or singing dwarves... or any strange singing beings for that matter, we will convene in Avalon, where I will find a way to do what needs to be done. Whatever it takes."

Kingsley beamed, "So it's settled then!" He clapped his hands together, standing to usher them out. "Go headquarter shopping and, uh, just let me know. Me your friend, not me the Minister. And in that capacity, I would like to humbly request a tour of the mystic isle... it sounds rather fascinating."

"Oh, it is." Regulus assured the man, "if you're not running from your destiny." He coughed and gestured at Hermione. "The head elf can be a bit bossy. Gives even this one a run for her money."

The ministers eyes widened. "Now, that I would love to see!" He said, awed. Hermione frowned, as Regulus smiled in earnest. The men shared a brief handshake before Hermione all but dragged Regulus from the room.

Wordlessly, they made their way to the apparition point, spinning out of the ministry and back to Grimmauld Place. "This is your fault!" She yelled, back in their room.

Regulus wisely remained silent, watching as she released her pent up frustration verbally. "I was just going to sneak in, make some huge breakthrough worthy of being allowed to breathe the air at the ministry proper again, then come back home to take a nice hot bath... fall asleep in your arms, wake up and repeat the cycle again and again. But no, you had to throw a howler in my plans and get me fired! Fired! I'm no longer an unspeakable! I can't believe it... I'm... I'm nothing..."

Hermione sank to the floor, placing her head on her knees, causing her hair to cascade wildly around her.

Kneeling before her, Regulus took one of her hands in his own. "Hermione," he whispered beseechingly, "you are everything! You couldn't be nothing, not even if you tried your hardest. You're right, you're not an unspeakable. But you didn't get fired. You're a free agent. The minister expects such greatness from you that he is giving you free reign to do as you please. With breakthroughs that could cause panic and pandemonium, widespread at that, not to mention war!"

A sniffle emitted from somewhere inside the forest of hair. She was shaking, so overwhelmed with this new idea that she didn't know what to think or feel, much less what to say. As someone who thrives on schedules and rigid rules and guidelines, this was quite possibly the most terrifying thing to ever happen to her.

Realizing this, Regulus changed tactics, gently tugging on the hand ensconced in his own, causing her to fall forward into his lap. He wrapped his arms around his witch, and spoke sweet nothings into her hair. "It's going to be alright, sweetheart," he promised, "I'll be right here with you, all the way. You'll be so sick of me, I swear it!"

Despite her tears, Hermione laughed. "Go away, Regulus. I'm trying to mope!" She halfheartedly tried to escape from his hold, laughing as he tickled her back into submission. "Not fair." She sighed, wrapping her arms around his neck, and burrowing her face into his chest. "Can we just go back to bed? Pretend this didn't happen when we wake up again. Then I can sneak back into the ministry, and go about my merry way."

Regulus shook with silent laughter. His witch was back. "I'm afraid not, Miss Hermione. We have plans, headquarter searching and all." He mock sighed, pretending it was a huge burden. He stood up, pulling her up with him, her hand still in his own. Leading her over to the chest of drawers where she kept the letter that would lead them to this mystery castle, he opened the drawer, and handed her the envelope.

Shakily, she took a hold of it, pulling the paper out. Closing her eyes, Hermione attempted to ready herself for anything. "It's just a castle," she breathed. Scanning the document, she withdrew her wand. Hesitantly, she placed its tip onto the wax seal in the middle of the paper, as it instructed her to do. "Place your hand on mine." She requested breathily.

The warmth from his hand calmed her, as she took a few deep breaths and exhaled loudly before saying the word that would activate the seal. "Life" She whispered. And then everything shifted.

_

If Hermione had to describe the feeling she had just experienced, it would be something akin to waking up, while walking through thin sheets of cool water. Refreshing, yet oddly disconcerting. It wasn't until that moment she realized that she had slammed her eyes shut, but had yet to reopen them. At the sound of an awed gasp beside her, however, she remedied that little problem quickly.

"What...?" She gasped.

Everything was white, she noted. Well, more of a cream really, but it was all one color nonetheless. The texture of the place was unreal though. The rough cobblestones beneath their feet appeared to swirl around them, as if they were made of air. The large stones that made up the walls were smooth, edged with textured bricks in the same cream color. Decorative tiles adorned the steps, looking almost moorish, save for their muted color scheme in shades of cream. Beauty as far as the eye could see, she nearly didn't realize one important fact.

"Your castle appears to have become ancient ruins..." Regulus stated disappointedly, shaking his head in disbelief. "I think there's supposed to be a ceiling...or at least a roof. And... well, you know. Maybe things to make it at least seem like it's been inhabited at some point within the last thousand years would be helpful."

Hermione had been so distracted by what she could see that she didn't even see that what she was supposed to see, wasn't there to be seen at all. Pulling out the letter, she searched its contents for a clue. "Life... is the only hint I've got... what gives me life, that could be important to an old magical castle?"

"Blood?" Regulus answered slowly, scanning their surroundings. The courtyard was bare of any furnishings, save for an old stone basin on an equally old pedestal remained. Walking over to it slowly, he mentally took note of any scenario that could come into play. Blood magic is finicky after all. "It sounds strange, but I vote that this has something to do with... something...?"

She cocked her head to the side, biting her lip absently. Shaking her head, as if to clear it, Hermione walked slowly over to the basin, staring silently for a moment before choking out, "You think I'm supposed to...bleed into it?"

He shrugged, "best guess, yes. Unless they mean the key of life... you being the Mistress of life, the key being the mark on your hand. At which point we would have to find where to put the key..." he sighed, "shedding a couple drops of blood may save us a lot of needless searching in any case." Grasping her hand, he offered to do it for her.

"That's kind of romantic," she chuckled, "in a macabre kind of way." Turning her head and whispering, "just get it over with."

A brief sting flirted across her consciousness, as he murmured an apology. Shaking it off, Hermione swiveled to look at him, just in time to see the world around them slowly knitting itself back together. "Regulus!" She gasped, "look!"

Dust swirled up from the ground, becoming benches and statues. Dirt fell from the stones, tumbling into place inside of what had once been carefully manicured garden beds. The once crumbling walls reformed before them, the rooftop became visible slowly, as a terra-cotta like series of tiles. It began to rain, cleansing the building, and causing flowers and plants to grow as if by magic.

A flutter of wings could suddenly be heard behind Regulus and Hermione, and they quickly spun to see what was approaching. However, they were more than unprepared for the sight that met their eyes. "Is that..." Hermione stuttered, awed.

"A fairy, I think?" Regulus whispered, jaw becoming slack as the fairy grew nearer. "Biggest fairy _I've_ ever seen though."

Getting a grip on her emotions, Hermione plastered a smile on her face. "Hello," she called to the creature coming towards them, "I'm—"

"Hermione, yes, we've- sorry, I've been told to expect you." He responded, straight faced, "Although, it has been many years." Landing mere feet away, he knelt before them. "Welcome home."

Laughter bubbled out from Hermione's mouth unbidden. Her hands shot to her mouth as she mumbled an apology, "Sorry, sorry I just... it's beautiful!" With a huff she tried again. "Sorry, again, two questions: who are you, and where are we?"

"Three," Regulus corrected quickly, "as there's also the question of what exactly you are. Not to be rude, I simply figured the best way was the most straightforward." The man bowed slightly, eyes twinkling as if he were amused.

He spoke, addressing Hermione first. "Forgive me, my lady. My name is Galahad." He bowed again, "and this—" he gestured around them, "is Camelot."

"Come again?" She stuttered, mouth falling open dumbly. Hermione blinked her eyes rapidly, knowing she must look incredibly stupid at that exact moment, but unable to stop herself.

Chuckling, Galahad repeated himself, "Camelot?" The words came out as a question, more than a statement. "You've heard of our little corner of the world?" Galahad asked, a full blown smile on his face for the first time since they'd met him.

"Let me see if I've got this straight... we are going to have the headquarters for our study of time magic in a mythical kingdom, with a group of people—quite possibly comprised of people that, technically speaking, were dead. Does that sound about right?" Regulus chortled. "Perfect."

Galahad's eyes widened. "Sounds like you lot fit in already!" He said seriously, "We are good with weird. Obviously." Looking at Regulus, he spoke solemnly, "As to your question, sir. Rude or otherwise, the answer is a same, I belong to an elven race, although I got into some trouble with some mischievous fairies when I was younger. I haven't fit in with my kind since, for obvious reasons." Gesturing to his wings he pouted. "But here, nobody cared and I was allowed to be myself for the first time. That kind of freedom is... liberating." Galahad sighed. "Anyway, would you like to see your kingdom, my lady?"

Hermione could barely contain her glee, although she was doing fairly well with keeping her questions to herself. For the moment, at least. "Please!" She all but shouted. "Wait... are you the Sir Galahad? As in knight of the round table, son of Sir Lancelot?"

"Indeed." He answered with a smirk. His ego practically inflated before her eyes, Hermione had been around men for long enough she knew what that looked like.

Regulus snorted, rolling his eyes dramatically, "Everyone knows Sir Galahad died." He fixed the winged man with a haughty look, waiting for an explanation.

"Everyone but me, it seems." The man said wryly, looking for all the world like he was channeling Sirius. "Granted, I can see how people would think that. I— acquired— the "holy grail". Little did I know what that would entail." He chuckled, "Next thing I know the bloody chalice is giving me a quest in the form of a riddle, and everyone and everything was just... gone. Poof. Disappeared. Until now, that is. Between then and now, I watched my home crumble in slow motion, before my eyes. Stuck here with only Merlin's blasted relics and the damned chalice."

Hermione looked troubled, "What was your quest? If you don't mind my asking." She wanted to ask why, or how, everyone disappeared, but she didn't want to put the cart before the horse.

"Merlin's quest, as I've come to realize who was responsible for the creation of the blasted relic," Galahad answered, "was simply to serve as an anchor for Camelot. A guardian or what have you, until the day the one known as the Mistress of Life comes to claim her inheritance and fulfill her destiny."

"Oh. Yay." Hermione deadpanned, rolling her eyes, "Well, I guess you're free now, at least... right?" A shrug was his only answer as he gestured for them to follow him.

After a tense moment, he spoke, not looking back. "I guess I never thought about what I'd do once my quest was over. I've gotten used to the way things were. Change is... unsettling."

"You're telling me." Regulus scoffed. "I grew up with parents that taught me that anyone different is somehow worth less than me. Only a select few get to have an opinion, and anything you have to lie, steal, or cheat for is just part of life. The sad thing is I bought it all, for the longest time."

Galahad stilled, slowly looking over his shoulder, "those thoughts would get you killed in Camelot. I'd suggest not living up to that particular legacy." He spat icily, his eyes impossibly dark.

Regulus nodded stiffly, "noted." Sniffing indignantly, he walked up to Hermione and placed his arm loosely around her, "thank goodness someone is such a good influence on me." He whispered.

"But your head would surely look good on a silver platter." She quipped in return, chuckling quietly. Noting that Galahad had began walking again, they hurried to catch up. No small task, as he had begun to hover over the ground, more flying than walking, apparently doubling his pace.

"Uh, Galahad, mere puny mortals here!" Hermione yelled to him, breathless from sprinting through what felt like half the tour.

Dropping himself to the ground, with an apologetic look on his face, he smirked, "see, change is hard... I'm used to floating around at a breakneck speed. Sorry about that. Good timing though, I'd say." Gesturing to the large room they had stoped in, he explained. "This hall once held the great round table of King Arthur's court. Although I've no idea of its current whereabouts, it was a sight to behold. And here is where you will meet your destiny."

"And then?" Hermione questioned petulantly.

Galahad smiled, "and then we will see what happens. I've no idea if people will just return, or if you'll rule over a breathtaking—ly empty kingdom." He shrugged, seemingly indifferent either way.

"Pardon me..." Hermione gasped, " did you just say rule?" She had to have been hearing things, right?

Nodding in response, "I did. Imagine...The first magical descendant of Arthur — and she has a hearing problem. What did you think your destiny was? To have tons of useless family artifacts, and piles of materialistic stuff?" He asked sarcastically, getting straight to the point.

"King Arthur wasn't magical." Regulus deadpanned, fixing the winged man with a calculating glare. "Impressive, yes. Magical ally, yes. Wizard, no, that was Merlin."

Galahad couldn't help it, he guffawed, "let me tell you a secret." He drawled at Regulus, "Merlin and Arthur... they were both wizards. Arthur's father, however was not. He was frightfully anti-magic, terrified of them. The young king-to-be was sent from home as a small child, until he could be deemed non-magical. His maternal uncle took him in. Being magical himself, not that the king new that bit, he was able to recognize the signs, and it was he who hired Merlin to be Arthur's assistant. So that any magical happenings could be attributed to the young mage instead of the young prince." He tapped the side of his head, urging them silently to 'think harder'.

"That actually makes a lot of sense..." Hermione admitted, "Seeing as Morgana was clearly magical, and Arthur's sister...so the magic came from their mother?"

Regulus' eyes widened, "King Arthur was a halfblood."

"Born of both worlds, and as such he was used to living in the particular mindset it took to be the one to unite the people. Both magical and mundane. Yes." Galahad said seriously, before shaking his head. He had wandered a bit from his purpose for being in that particular room, "Anyway, the great hall, former home of the mythical round table— which would have made this next part a whole lot easier." He rolled his eyes, "In any case, here you will claim your destiny. All you need is the key."

"No more bleeding me dry?" Hermione asked, eyebrow quirked in jest, "I'm disappointed! — Wait... the round table..." she gasped. "I think I know where it may be..."

Regulus' hand smacked itself onto his face, "The Gryffin's Keep." He muttered, he should have thought of that.

"How much of a difference does it make?" Hermione questioned, looking at Galahad.

He shrugged, "ah, somewhere between a little bit and without it there is no hope, I believe. Honestly, I don't know what you have to do. I would have thought you were given instructions, as I surely wasn't." He laughed bitterly, "Other than to wait for you, and bring you here to this place, I mean."

"Helpful." She sighed sarcastically. "Kreacher. I'm in need of some assistance, please,"

Kreacher popped up with a roguish smile, executing an extremely complicated looking, flourished bow. "Mistress, Master... giant fairy man? —That's new..." he greeted. Shaking his head to rid himself of the myriad of questions lurking there, the elf grinned again, in a flash of teeth. "How may I be of assistance?" He asked.

Hermione chuckled, "Two options, Kreacher. You can either go pilfer the round table from the Gryffins Keep, or you can bring me every bit of what popped out of Merlin's trunk."

The elf's eyes grew wide, a sincerely devious smile blossoming slowly upon his face. Without a word, he disappeared again. Regulus guffawed, "I wonder what he picked." His mind brought up several versions of what Kreacher could be doing, each more worrisome than the rest. "Think that may have been a bad call?" He asked offhandedly.

"Most definitely." Hermione nodded, while Galahad feigned disinterest. She turned towards him slowly, a speculative look on her face. "So you were a knight of the round table, then?" She asked.

He had to wonder where this line of inquiry was headed. Still he nodded yes, and she suddenly assumed an authoritative position. He had seen this stance before, from Arthur himself, so he knew where the discussion was headed. Questions, he was sure, so many questions!

"Not alone, I presume?" She fired quickly.

He shook his head, she was starting with the easy ones. Surely she knew about the other knights. "No." Galahad answered simply.

"How many?" Hermione asked.

He cocked an eyebrow, noting Regulus' head comically swiveling back and forth as they each spoke. "Chairs or Knights?" He countered standoffishly.

She smirked, "Both."

"The first answer depends on the second answer, as there are always as many chairs as there are knights, and then the spare. Twelve knights served with me, that I recall. It has been a while. But the numbers have varied, as I've been told. It has held up to 150 place settings." He rambled, taking his time.

Hermione briefly looked thoughtful. "It's a magic table then? Expanding as needed, then shrinking to its original shape?"

He nodded absently. "Yes, Merlin's doing. The room too. The only ridiculous thing is that it expands fully, leaving an absurdly large space that's unreachable in any way other than magic. It's led to some interesting situations though."

"Such as?" She prompted. Her mind was coming up with several scenarios.

Galahad laughed, "Dueling on the table, using the center to plan out strategies with scaled down magical projections. Setting the entire feast in the center and making the magicals serve the mundanes, as punishment for their unhindered objections to their presence."

"There was unrest among the knights?" Hermione gasped.

He raised an eyebrow, "Have you ever seen a room full of sweaty, hungry, men with no grievances to air?"

She shrugged, sighing, "No, I suppose not."

"Point made," He responded, then explained further, "But the knights were all royal born or at least gentry, no matter their magical status. So get a room full of already headstrong, self centered males together, and there's bound to be squabbles. Considering we had endured Uther's reign, and it's denial of the rights of magicals, that was just one more sore spot. Then factor in the veela's and the fairies, the elves and the goblins... all proud races as well."

Nodding, she opened her mouth to comment, when a blur passed her by, laughing maniacally. Papers and books were suddenly strewn across the floor, as a second blur followed the first. Round and round they went, causing a soft wind to blow through the room.

Tiny's form was the first to take discernible shape. "Stop! Thief, I command you to return the furnishings to me!" She yelled demandingly.

"You can have them!" Kreacher yelled, tossing armfuls of obviously pilfered items towards the other elf.

Tiny huffed. "I don't care about books, or shoes, or candlesticks... I don't care about any of this junk! Return the furniture!"

"Okay, but you asked for it!" He laughed deviously. The color faded from Tiny's cheeks, as she realized what was about to happen.

Chairs flew towards the small female elf, tables, pictures, lamps followed, and even a grand chandelier. "Stop!" She shouted, freezing everything in its place.

This had the effect of distracting her for long enough that Kreacher could place the table where it had originally been, as was marked in the center of the room. It also had the effect of making Tiny look around to see just where she had followed the mischievous thief of her masters' property.

"Is this...?" The little elf gasped, just as a great rumble began from somewhere in the depths of the Earth. A brilliant gold light bathed the room, as its occupants struggled to see what was happening before their very eyes.

_


	35. Finding Balance

_

**Chapter Thirty-Five**

—

_Finding Balance_

_

Hermione, once again, could see nothing but light. The gold color of it was of no consequence, in the scheme of things. Regardless of how pretty it had initially been, she was beginning to get a little sick of these abrupt situations leading to loss of sight. "_Merlin_!" She groaned.

Thrusting her hands before her, Hermione made her way over to where she believed the table to be. When her hands smacked against the cool, solid object that she believed to be a chair, her relief was nearly instantaneous.

Sliding her hands downward, she blindly felt for the seat, aiming for waiting out the madness comfortably— and without ending up on the floor. Finding it, she sat down with a sigh, noting the location of the table itself. She placed her arms on the table, and promptly laid her head down.

Suddenly, Hermione hissed in pain. Something had _bitten _her finger! At least, that's what it had felt like. "Ugh!" She huffed to herself, "Please tell me I'm imaging things." Gingerly shaking her hand, she noted that the glow was beginning to dim. Finally.

"Freedooooom!" Regulus yelled excitedly, from somewhere within the fog.

Shadows appeared, becoming sharper by the second. Slowly, they revealed the forms of three elves, and a relieved looking wizard. All four, gaping at her.

"What the—?" Regulus breathed, as Kreacher murmured something about the "bushy headed witch" who should have thought to "suck up the fog" earlier.

Strange, thought Hermione, as she was the only witch in the room. Although if she could have stopped the invasion of the golden glow she would have, but she hadn't done any such thing. She was about to say so, when Galahad gasped dramatically, "the chair!"

He was so observant. "Yes," Hermione quipped, "I simply walked over here and sat down, it's not my fault no one else thought of such a novel idea!" She couldn't stop the eye roll that was quickly approaching.

"No, _the_ _chair_." Galahad reiterated. "The one that's remained empty for _millennia_... you..." He was suddenly before her, kneeling. "My lady, I fear I've made a grievous mistake." He spike solemnly.

Hermione hmmed, "You've got the wrong chair in mind?" She questioned, but relented at the hard look that crossed his face. "Ok, ok. Sorry! What grievous mistake have you made?"

Galahad swallowed thickly, "I didn't find the grail." He paused, as if trying to process his words as he was speaking them. "I found the chalice, with the quest, that was leading to the grail." He bowed his head. Hermione shared a look with Regulus, both just as puzzled.

"So, we need to find the real grail? What, did Merlin come to you in the fog?" Regulus joked.

Galahad leveled him with a hard look. "No, the fog itself showed me the true grail. The thing that will save Camelot, is not a _thing_ at all. It is a _She_." He sighed, "Lady Hermione, is the grail."

Her eyes flew open, darting between Galahad and Regulus. She was stunned, and more than completely sure that he had gone mental from breathing in fog. "That's _prepostero_—"

"Camelot!" Tiny shrieked, interrupting Hermione. The elf glared at Kreacher, "You didn't have to steal the table! It belongs here. We were just looking after it at the request of the family. All you had to say was that it was needed in Camelot."

Kreacher smirked, "One, I didn't know I had even _been_ in Camelot. Two, I still would have done the same thing. It was fun." He shrugged, laughing off the piercing glare from the little female.

"He's like your other brother," Hermione mentioned offhandedly to Regulus, shaking her head, "The other, other Black brother."

He nodded his agreement. "Scary, isn't it?" He replied, "But let's get back to the whole Grail thing, shall we... your holiness?" He tacked the last part on, mocking laughingly, tears forming in his eyes as she glared at him, hard.

Galahad also didn't look amused. "This is not a joke, _wizard_." He growled, causing Regulus to look properly chastised. "This quest was my life's work, finding the Grail was my most cherished accomplishment. To find that it was not completed until this moment... that these things were not truly within my grasp, or even within my realm of understanding... I am—" he trailed off, not knowing how to explain what he was currently feeling.

"Getting very sleepy?" Kreacher suggested sarcastically, "I sure am, after all that... excitement." He finished his sentence, looking down to examine his fingernails. "If that's all, I'm going to retire to... sanity."

Regulus snickered behind his hand. "Go on, Kreacher, thank you for your assistance," he said, waving the elf off, "it was very entertaining." Bowing dramatically, with as much flourish as he could muster, Kreacher popped off.

"Men!" Tiny sighed, taking her leave as well, with no frills or flourishes involved.

Hermione sighed, shaking her head, "Men indeed." Turning to the only elf left in the room, Hermione asked, "Alright, let's say I'm the grail, what now?"

"Now..." he responded slowly, "I'm not sure. I was only charged with acquiring it, then this quest. I'm not sure how it works, or what it— sorry, _you_ are supposed to do."

She nodded, resigned. "Alright, I suppose we will get to that when we have more information... or find Merlin."

"He's _alive_?!" Gasped Galahad, clearly shocked. A menacing grin danced across his face. "Good, I've got a few complaints to lodge with that meddling old man."

Regulus guffawed, "Us too, Galahad. We've got more than a few, too."

"_Many_ _more_," Hermione added lowly, "Anyway. Now, what were we doing in here? We've got the table now."

Galahad sighed, running his hand through his reddish blonde hair, "I think you've done it already." He bowed, "Congratulations, your majesty. You've just accepted your destiny, whatever that may be. Also, you've accepted your place on the throne of Camelot... well, your intent to do so. I'm not allowed to do the ritual, but I assume those who are will reappear. Eventually."

He looked around himself in wonder, "I already feel changes happening around here."

Hermione was overcome by a sense of dawning horror as she listened to him speak. It was growing minutely with every word out of Galahad's stupidly symmetrical mouth. She wanted to yell, to make him just— stop talking— but all she could seem to do was stand there, gaping like an idiot.

What kind of a lunatic wanted her to rule a... what _exactly_ would she be ruling? Well, whatever it was, it was crazy! And the whole grail thing... how could a person be the holy grail? And suddenly, she found her voice. "Throne?! I—me?", she stuttered. Maybe it wasn't as found as she would have liked.

Galahad raised an eyebrow. "Throne. Yes, you. Many time great Granddaughter of both Arthur and Merlin, I should say there would be no better option."

"I would be a _terrible_ ruler!" She yelled emphatically, flailing her arms in the air, "And what would I rule anyway? The non magical people already have a monarch... the magical people don't want one." Crossing her arms over her chest, Hermione leveled Galahad with a pointed stare.

A stare he retired with an equally hard gaze. "Have you ever thought of the fact that a ruler doesn't have to command people to have an effect? The best kinds often lead by example. Is that not what Arthur did? He was just and true, and his people mirrored his actions."

Hermione sighed minutely, before whispering, "We will see, when the time comes. I suppose." She straightened, suddenly, declaring, "But no bowing, none of that kissing rings and kissing hands —and/or feet. If it will be a title, then there's no escaping that, but there are some things I absolutely will never allow..." she shook her head, feeling tired all of the sudden.

"Are there places to, uh, retire? Sleep? Anything of the like around here?" Regulus asked awkwardly, watching as his witch battled to keep her eyelids open. "We haven't seen anything other than hallways and courtyards in this tour. Lovely as they may be, I doubt your whole kingdom slept in them."

Galahad had the good sense to look ashamed. "Ah, yes, it slipped my mind. Many apologies."

"None needed," Regulus assured the other man. "We originally had planned this to be a quick visit, just checking to see if it would be a viable option for our own 'quest', if you would. We never intended to stay the night." He ran a hand through his hair, sighing, "Honestly, I could probably take her home, but I was wanting to have more of a look around."

Galahad nodded, gesturing for them to follow him. "This way."

————

_Grimmauld Place_

—

"Anyone seen Hermione?" Harry asked, walking into the dining hall. His question was met by half a dozen or so nods. Everyone was gathered to discuss living arrangements and plans, and quite honestly just for a good meal and fellowship.

Sirius spoke up, after clearing his throat, "My idiot brother is missing too. I figure they're either on some sappy romantic date... or Hermione's dragged him off to some library or other and we won't see them for an eternity." His statement was met by chuckles. For those who knew Hermione, Sirius' logic made perfect sense, and even those of the group just getting to know her could see the possibility was very real.

It just so happened that the Minister was a staple around Grimmauld Place these days, and his presence was almost expected at any given function. Dinner being one of them. Which was how he came to be in the conversation at hand. "I actually saw both of them this morning." He said evenly, placing his napkin down on his lap. "Hermione tried to sneak into work again. I don't know how she thought she was getting that habit by me, of course I knew she'd been coming in all this time. I'm afraid she's terribly upset at me at the moment." He sighed, "Regulus accompanied her to the ministry, coming with a proposal to be her 'babysitter' if she was allowed to return to work. I told her that I wanted better things for her than withering away in the bowels of the ministry. The lovely Miss Granger took it as me firing her, when I actually tasked her with a new job outside of the ministry. I assume they are off finding a headquarters as suggested. Or she's pouting."

"I'm honestly not sure which to expect of Hermione lately," Harry chuckled, earning a smack on the back of his head from Ginny, who had come with Ron earlier intending on spending some alone time with her wizard. "Ow." He glared at the redhead, a glare that was reflected right back at him, "What?! I'm just being honest. She's been going through a lot, processing a lot. Hermione's never been good with all the social stuff, and she's been thrust into quite a bit of it lately."

Ginny snorted. "Hermione is a capable witch!" She exclaimed, "And, while she is extremely intelligent, and formerly socially awkward, we are not in Hogwarts anymore. Our little bookworm has grown by leaps and bounds into the smart version of a butterfly. Plus," she added with a smirk, "she is capable of pouting and working at the same time. This is Hermione we are talking about!"

"I'll drink to that!" The twins chorused, raising their glasses in a toast. The motion was echoed around the table.

Harry shook his head, drinking deeply from his goblet of wine. "I stand corrected," he said solemnly, pressing a kiss to the top of his witches head. "I just worry about her."

"That's what makes you such a good friend," Lilly observed, levitating a heaping helping of vegetables onto her sons plate. He rolled his eyes at her coddling, but speared a piece of broccoli anyway. "I wonder what kind of assignment Kingsley has given her." She mused, "I bet it's something exciting. It sounds like you lot have adventures galore, I expect this to be no different."

Harry, chewing slowly, shrugged before swallowing, "I'm sure she'll let us know eventually. Merlin, you two are like one person these days, so you'll probably be with her every step of the way."

He wasn't lying. Hermione and Lilly had grown rather close. The former enjoying the fact that Lilly was as well read and studious as she was herself. It was rare to find another person that could keep up with her on an academic level, much less one who also knew what it was like to be female. Lilly's creativity had stirred something in Hermione, the two talking theory frequently as Lilly began to slowly pick up where she had left off in her spell creation. In fact, she was hoping to make a living off of spells and potions, and therefore found Hermione an invaluable resource, in both knowledge and the fact that she possessed the attention span needed to bounce complicated ideas off of.

Lilly smiled brightly. "Oh! I hope so!" She trilled, causing James, Regulus and Remus to roll their eyes.

Tonks, who was plating up Teddy's food, chuckled, "Don't worry Lils, I think you're a shoe in. I'll force my way into her plans if I have to! Merlin knows it'll be more exciting than all the bureaucracy and bull— uh, well you know, going on at the ministry lately. The most exciting call I've got since I started back there was about an animangus stuck in a well... turned out it was just a bucket that had been spelled to report when the water was low." She shook her head mock sorrowfully, "that poor, poor bucket."

Gasping in laughter, Lilly dutifully said, "oh, you know I'll put in a good word for you with Hermione." She winked, "Also, I happen to know that she enjoys your company too. I believe she said there was 'never a dull moment' with you around. Maybe she will take pity on both of us for having to put up with these lugs!" She gestured to the now scowling marauders.

"I resent that comment!" James cried, while checking his teeth with a spoon.

His wife made a gesture as if saying 'case in point', before announcing, "No, dear, I believe you resemble that comment."

"See!" Sirius exclaimed, "That is why I'm never getting married. That bit, right there!" He sighed, "I'm going to be a bachelor forever, simply because I get picked on enough by you lot. Too much to ever want to take it from anyone else."

Remus smiled, "aww mate, they're spreading out the love so you don't get lonely. We appreciate not having the attention solely on us too, don't we James?"

Nodding emphatically, James added, "Plus, I always figured you were too in love with Remus— or yourself— to ever settle down with a lady."

"Shut your fat gob!" Sirius yelled childishly, cheeks flaming, "And James, by the way, there IS something in your teeth."

Grabbing his spoon again, James tried to find the offending object in vain.

Sirius smirked, whispering dramatically, "it's betrayal, Prongsy, ol' chap. Betrayal is in your teeth, in so much as revenge is in mine. Ah, and it tastes so, so sweet."

Overhearing this, Remus shared a sneaky smile with his friend. "Oh, yes. I see it too! How could you miss that Prongs? It's huge!"

Lilly and Tonks just rolled their eyes, laughing at the boys antics, while wondering what their friend was getting up to at that moment. Wherever she was.

————

_Meanwhile, in Camelot..._

—

Hermione had had the most fantastical dream. She had inherited Camelot! Ha! Then had been shown to a room with the most comfortable bed she had ever had the pleasure to have a nap in, by a winged knight of the round table no less! She could still feel it, come to think of it.

Unless... opening her eyes a crack, Hermione examined her surroundings. Shocked to find that the same comfortingly crisp, white setting from her dream surrounded her. "Oh, Merlin!" She breathed.

"Sleeping beauty awakes!" Regulus whisper called from across the room, where he was seated in a chaise lounge. A stack of books half as tall as he was standing, sitting beside him. Fingers fiddling idly with the pages of a tomb in his lap. "This Place is... perfect." He informed her, "You have got to see the library!"

This sentence perked her up immediately. "There's a _library_? In Camelot!?" She squealed, peeling herself off the bed rapidly. He nodded, smiling at the predictably Hermione-like response.

Gingerly, Regulus stood, placing his book down onto the chair, careful to put it down in a way he wouldn't lose his page. He was sure the information it contained would prove useful, he just wasn't sure how— yet. Striding to Hermione's side he offered her his arm with a quiet, "m'lady."

She giggled, rolling her eyes, as she dutifully accepted his proffered arm. "Lead on, fair knight." She stated mock haughtily.

"As you wish." He laughed, taking her from the room at a brisk pace. Leading her through cream colored passageways, they exited the building they had been in. They wound their way down ornately patterned cobbled streets, coming to a grand building separated from all the rest. It vaguely resembled a lighthouse, with its obelisk style structure.

Constructed of cream colored stone, with decorative copper and wrought iron accents, the building stood out among its neighbors. It's placement on the edge of a cliff, overlooking a large body of water added to the beauty of the scene at large.

Hermione had stopped short when she saw it, breathing, "It's...achingly beautiful."

"And full of knowledge," Regulus added, "which you're aching to tap, I know." He tugged her toward the building.

She gaped at him, "That's the library?!" Her eyebrows shot nearly into her hairline. Pace suddenly frenzied, she made a beeline into the beautiful structure, only to pause once inside. "I don't get it." She said confusedly.

There was not one book in sight. Come to think of it, the inside didn't look anything like the outside of the building. There were no windows, for one, and the room was completely bare, save for a solitary table bearing a scrap of paper that read simply: "seek and you shall find."

Hermione picked the paper up dejectedly, idly fiddling with it as she thought aloud. "Seek and you shall find..." She said, pursing her lips, as if it were some sort of a riddle to be solved. "I am seeking for books." She said, exasperated , "but I am certainly not finding any here—"

Around her the room began to spin. Walls shifting, suddenly reflecting the true architecture of the building. Windows appeared, with their wrought iron frames as decorative inside as they were on the outside. Massive bookshelves appearing between the windows, creating little nooks under them, where cozy benches were placed artfully. A staircase appeared surrounding the table, circling upwards toward the ceiling, where it simply stopped.

"What's up there?" She asked, pointing to the top of the stairs, where they met the plaster of the ceiling. "And why would they build a staircase to nowhere?"

The now familiar voice of Merlin filtered into her ears, from everywhere and nowhere at the same time. "Welcome to the hall of knowledge. You seek to find, and find to seek, you read to learn, and learn for keeps. Every level holds something new, what you find is up to you."

Just when she thought the message was over, the ancient wizard finished in a foreboding tone, "But beware...for knowledge is power, and power corrupts. Keep both your wits, and your values close, on your way up."

"Creepy," Hermione said decidedly, at the same time Regulus breathed, "That didn't happen before." They looked at each other for a long moment, before Regulus grasped her hand, and lead her through the aisles of books. He explained how the shelves worked, demonstrating as he waved his wand like Galahad had shown him, causing the nearest shelf to slide out of its space on the wall. It expanded to the stairs, forming a series of aisles full to the brim with books.

Hermione squealed. "That's ingenious! I love it! Creepy warning aside, this is the most amazing library I've ever visited."

"Which means a lot coming from you, the girl who has visited nearly every library in existence." Regulus joked, patting her on the head. "I've brought several books back to the room that looked promising and/or interesting. But there's bound to be dozens more I've missed."

Hermione grinned at him, "I wonder..." She turned to the table, enunciating her next words clearly "I am searching for books about time." Several volumes appeared silently, stacked neatly in the center of the table.

"Why didn't I think of that?" Regulus gaped, shaking his head. His stomach grumbled loudly. "I am searching for dinner." He joked. A stack of books, appeared next to the first. Upon inspection he sighed dejectedly , "Cookbooks." He chuckled at her inquisitive look, shrugging, "It was worth a shot."

She laughed openly, clapping her hands gleefully. "I am searching for a map of Camelot, to show me the way to the dining area." Hermione announced, raising an eyebrow challengingly at her wizard. A single piece of parchment fluttered it's way to the table.

Regulus approached it hesitantly, inspecting the paper carefully before picking it up. He unfolded it, and smiled, sighing,"Perfect! It's a map," he explained. Adding , "hopefully one that is up to date, and some places are circled, hopefully dining areas, but with their placement, it may be anything that has to do with food."

He held it out to her, instinctively knowing she was waiting to inspect the map. Nodding her thanks, she did just that. "There are even dots denoting where we are. It must be intuitive, if not interactive." She frowned, "Leave the library, I want to see if your dot moves."

As requested, Regulus made his way out the door, waiting for her outside. When she followed him, it was with a smile upon her face. "It updated itself!" She informed him, "like a primitive version of the marauders map... uh the map your brothers merry band of mischief makers made in Hogwarts."

"I know about the map." Regulus chuckled, "I was the one who dropped ideas to make the blasted thing work when Sirius was around to 'overhear'. Oh and Remus and I studied sometimes with Snape and Lilly, so he would ask questions that would vaguely tie in to what we were learning, but obviously didn't. James' part was probably Lilly's doing, although I hate to admit he's actually smart enough to have done the research on his own and put two and two together eventually."

Whilst they talked, they walked. Ambling down the cobbled streets at a leisurely pace. Occasionally stopping to investigate anything remotely interesting. As suspected, most of the circled places were gardens or orchards, anywhere that contained anything remotely edible. They munched on freshly picked fruits and vegetables procured on their journey.

"You know," Regulus said suddenly, quickly swallowing a bite of apple, "we could have just called Kreacher for some dinnner...come to think of it."

Hermione laughed, "Yeah, we could have. But this was fun."

"Having fun without me?" Kreacher gasped dramatically, appearing between them, "I'm so disappointed." He frowned, grabbing the apple from Regulus' hand and taking a large bite. "Mmm the spoils of my victory are surely sweet." He declared, causing Regulus to roll his eyes.

Swatting the elf, Regulus sighed, and resignedly summoned another apple. "You know," he said petulantly, "you're kind of like some kind of pest. The kind that pops up unannounced at the weirdest times."

"And you love every bit of it!" The elf cackled, poking him on the nose for emphasis. "Plus, you were the one who said my name. Can't help my inquisitive nature, and all that, you know."

Hermione, who had been watching this display quietly, with much satisfaction, deemed it time to make her presence known, "Fancy meeting you here, Kreacher!" She said loudly, "Perfect timing too. We are in search of sustenance, and you are now helping!" She thrust the map into his hands, much to his shock. "Lead on sir elf!" She giggled, watching in amusement as he gasped and sputtered, trying to figure out just how to react.

Shaking his head, Kreacher gathered his wits about him. "I'm not your tour guide to the mythical kingdom of Camelot!" He said condescendingly, "Where is the winged wonder?"

"Galahad," Hermione corrected pointedly, looking at the map, "is just here." She gestured to the only dot that wasn't in their current location. "Wherever that may be."

Kreacher sighed, "Then let's go to him. He's been here long enough he surely can tell you where to find a decent meal." His companions stared pointedly, smiles on their faces. "Fine, fine, I'll play along. Just this once. Come along children." Shaking his head he walked towards the dot that showed Galahad's location.

"Just to be clear," Regulus piped up from behind the others, "we are all aware that one of us could, technically, snap their fingers and make food appear, right? Or, you know, simply take us where we are going."

Kreacher chuckled, "but, dear Reggie, I was requested to lead you, not feed you."

"He is correct." Hermione smirked, "He's playing along Reg, don't ruin it. These moments are so few and far between."

"Alright, dear Kreachy, we play your way. For now." Regulus said, with a long suffering sigh, "But if I die of starvation, it's your fault."

The elf snapped his fingers, and an apple appeared, in Regulus' open mouth. "There, that's better." The elf said with a smirk, not bothering to either slow down or look back.

Hermione, however, did both of those things, snorting with laughter. "I'm bottling these memories, for sure!" She pledged, as he ranted and raved unintelligibly, apparently unable to get the offending fruit from his mouth. After a moment, she took pity on him, and swiftly removed the apple, tossing it to one side, before hurrying to catch up to the elf who was swiftly disappearing with the map.

"Thank you!" He called as he ran behind her. She merely waved.

Out of breath, they reached Kreacher, at the top of a particularly steep hill. He had stopped, looking around.

"What are we looking for?" Hermione gasped.

The elf pointed to the dot on the map, exactly where they stood. He was right there, yet he wasn't. In a sudden moment of inspired thinking, Kreacher looked up. "Ah, sir Galahad!" He said, waving to the lone figure perched on the railing of a balcony, several stories up.

Gracefully, Galahad jumped and fluttered to the ground. "Hello all." He said, by way of greeting. "To what do I owe this unexpected meeting?"

Regulus dropped to the floor, gasping dramatically, "Hunger!"

Chuckling, Hermione translated, "We visited the library, it's beautiful by the way. Regulus here got hungry and the library provided us this map with areas circled." She gestured to the map in Kreachers hands, "It seems the more he thought about food, the hungrier he got. Despite finding many places growing food, we have yet to come across one that has anything he would deem as a meal."

Galahad laughed in earnest, "Ah, yes the library is very literal with requests. You have to be terribly specific." He began walking, waving his hand for the group to follow. "Unfortunately, we are a bit short staffed around here as of late. So, most of the street venders— by that I mean all, of course— aren't around anymore. This leaves two eating areas. One, the main kitchen, is where you can cook your food. Two, the dining hall, has enchantments on it that will cook the food for you— so long as it can be found within the kingdom. If I wanted an apple pie, it would be there. If I wanted something a bit more exotic, like shark or — I don't know, as I'm fairly basic these days— anything that can't be found in Camelot, it would simply do nothing."

They found themselves being led into the room that housed the round table. Galahad sitting in what appeared to have been his normal spot, after Hermione took her spot in the chair that was normally reserved. Regulus and Kreacher sat down on either side of her. Kreacher looking crestfallen, as the table ultimately moved him several spots away on its own.

"I would like a meat pie," Galahad declared, not bothering to specifically name a type. Nonetheless, a plate appeared before him, filled with delectable looking food.

Hermione smirked, "I would like a salad with grilled chicken and vinaigrette dressing, roast vegetables, and lemonade. My two companions would like some humble pie." Choked gasps came from Regulus and Kreacher, as unrestrained laughter flowed from Galahad's mouth.

The meals appeared, exactly as ordered. Hermione's salad looked mouthwateringly fresh, and the two plates of mid-evil style meat pie didn't actually look too terrible. Fortunately, Hermione had known exactly what she was actually requesting for the boys.

Relieved, Regulus picked up his fork, glad to have actual food to eat. What he had been imagining was a beautiful, but empty plate. "I'm not even going to ask what's in this." He said, digging in fork first.

The bread that made up the crust was terribly thick, surrounding the meat in a type of encasement that was nigh on impossible to get through. But still he persevered... or tried to. Kreacher was having much the same difficulty, although he had resorted, fairly quickly, to using his elfin magic to transfer just the filling to his plate.

Galahad cleared his throat before speaking. "Uh, Regulus... you're actually supposed to open the top, like a lid." He advised sagely. Hermione nodded in agreement.

"It's not a real pie?" He pouted, looking devastated.

Hermione chuckled. "It is a real pie. Just one that was made to store what was inside of the pie, rather than for the crust to be a part of it. Think of the bread as a bowl. Open the lid, eat the filling."

He looked at her skeptically. "What is in this pie?"

She just shrugged, it was a hard question to answer. She didn't make the pie. Kreacher, however, seemed to know the answer. Grinning, he shouted with glee, "Liver! And onions—and other deliciousness!" completely disregarding the fact that his mouth was full. Everyone grimaced at the display.

Regulus didn't look too put off by what was in his pie though, having been fed things far worse at home while he was growing up. His first bite was met with a satisfied sigh. "It's good, actually." He said, after swallowing. "Not saying I'll ask for 'humble pie' often. Maybe just when I've been an arse and I know it." He winked at his lover.

Sticking her tongue out, in a very Hermione-like fashion, she turned to Galahad. "Since you would be the one most affected by what I am thinking of doing, I believe it's only right to ask your opinion on the matter." She said hesitantly, "And since you'd have to act as tour guide until we get used to everything."

Eyebrows raised, he waited for her to continue. Wondering just what she was planning that would require his approval.

Wringing her hands, she spoke. "I've been working on a project for work, and outside of work. The subject is time. What it is, how it works, seeing what it can be used for, and the like." He hmmed as she continued, "I have created a new branch of magic, time magic, using the sands of time. It could be very dangerous if it were to fall into the wrong hands, and thus my boss has demanded that I cease all official inquiry, and find a new location where I can continue my studies in a way that will not cause global war and terror."

"I see," Galahad exhaled deeply, "And you are thinking 'what better place than a mythical kingdom that nobody knows exists anymore', am I right?"

She nodded guiltily, "precisely. Which is why I need you to tell me if it's a terrible idea, if it will disturb or distress you (as you are the only original inhabitant to call this place home) then I will go elsewhere with my project."

"Where else would you go?" Galahad asked, looking thoughtful.

Hermione smiled encouragingly, "Avalon, if the Elfin overlord would have us." She chuckled at the look of shock on Kreachers face, turning to full on laughter when Galahad's confusion manifested into the most comical look she had ever seen.

"I want you to know, Hermione, that I am telling Daisy you said that. Although she may find it funny, she may also find it very offensive. You never really know with her, do you?" Kreacher said, almost boredly.

Galahad heaved a deep breath, exclaiming, "You had me thinking that Avalon was overtaken!" He shook his head wildly, "That would have been disastrous, and now I find out that my baby sister is the supposed tyrant. She's not devolved that much has she?"

"Sister?!" Regulus gasped, sharing a look with Hermione, "I don't see the resemblance."

Hermione hushed him, "She's fine, not a tyrant. A bit headstrong and possessing the uncanny ability to bend people to her will... but she's also kind and sweet."

Nodding, Galahad looked relieved. "That sounds about right. You are welcome to conduct your business here, studies and all. As far as Avalon goes, why have you been there? And when?"

Hermione straightened, raising her chin defiantly, "Avalon, apparently, is another of my birthrights. As Merlin's Heiress, and Arthur's, there is much to discover, it seems."

That was all it took for Galahad to choke on his last bit of pie. Looking for all the world like he had been chewing rocks instead, he heaved in great sputtering breaths. "What did that great oaf do?! You'd have to be a descendant of the Lady Morgana to be givin the rights to the aisle... oh I could throttle him! —both of them, really!"

"I'm still trying to figure it all out," Hermione admitted, "Merlin made a series of prophecies, seven to be exact. We've only accessed three so far. It's... a bit much for one sitting. But the world is seeing changes, already." She sighed tiredly, "I'd be lying if I said I wasn't waiting for the other shoe to drop. All this has already changed, well everything I thought I knew. About myself, where I come from, who I come from, the people around me. I'm second guessing old judgements and misgivings." Hermione trailed off, looking down at the table.

"I'd be lying if I said I was surprised, with Merlin involved." Galahad shook his head, "Expect the unexpected. Always. That man is... was... is— I'm still confused on that, clearly—something else entirely."

"Is" Hermione corrected his correction. "Apparently he's alive, somewhere, somehow. Waiting for me to rescue him, I guess."

Galahad groaned. "Leave it to Merlin!" He exclaimed, throwing his hands in the air. "I don't know why he trapped me here, if he was just planning to reappear himself."

"Back up plan." Kreacher suggested, sucking his fingers clean of the remnants of his meal.

Regulus shook his head, making a noise of disagreement, "Diversion." He states seriously, "If someone realized something was going on in first Avalon, then Camelot, they'd assume they were looking for something in one of those two places. It would buy time for his plan to come to fruition. Whatever that may be."

"That makes sense." Galahad agreed, "Daisy and I were more than capable fighters, giving us the incentive to protect the places we each love most in the world, with our lives if we had to... yes that would buy plenty of time. Especially given the enchantments a person would have to overcome just to get here."

Hermione shook her head unconvinced, "That could be part of it. But I don't think that's all of it." She stood, beginning to pace. "First we were led to Emery's Castle. Then to the Griffins Keep. Next, to Avalon. Now, Camelot." She took a breath. "I'm unsure of the location of Emery's Castle. But the Griffins Keep— where we found the round table— is near Hogwarts. As is Avalon. The fact that the table was in the Keep makes me think it's connected in some way." Sighing, she shook her head again, "I'm just not sure how, yet."

Regulus leaned towards Galahad and whispered, "She's going to make a map." just before Hermione nodded her head, as if making an important decision, declaring, "We need to make a map." The boys guffawed, but were silenced quickly upon an icy glare in their direction, "Correction, you two make a map."

"Kreacher, go grab Harry, Tonks, Lilly— oh, well, you know what, just grab everyone at Grimmauld and bring them here. Have Tiny help you, Daisy too if needed. I'm sure she would like to see her brother after a millennia apart. No time like the present and all." She barked orders like she was born to do so, before declaring that she was going to the library, to try and figure out maps for everyone.

She had the sinking feeling that she would have to ask Regulus and the Marauders for help. Maybe she would end up the one deserving of a healthy helping of humble pie. But only time would tell.

————


	36. YouAreMyDensity

————

**Chapter Thirty-Six**

—

_You Are My Density_

————

Kreacher journeyed to Avalon first, not looking forward to the welcome he may have at the Griffin's Keep. In fact, he was trying to avoid the place all together, if he was honest. Tiny was rather peeved with the way he had conducted his heist that morning. Probably rightfully so, he admitted to himself. But she was so fun to mess around with!

He found Daisy in one of the orchards, staring at the stars above. The look on her face was far away. If he didn't know any better he would have called it a look of longing.

"What are you looking at tonight, Miss Daisy?" He asked softly, lowering himself down to sit next to her. Reaching out, he twirled a lock of her hair that had come undone from the intricate braids she had pleated it into.

She didn't answer for a long while, content in her gazing. And then, suddenly, she couldn't take internalizing it all anymore. "I just miss it, you know? The way things used to be." She sighed, "When I was surrounded by people like me, who knew what it was like to really be an elf. I didn't have to explain my every movement, just so others would have an idea of what it means to be like us. I could just... breathe... and now— I can't even gaze at the stars without wondering how everything can look the same, but be so—different!"

Kreacher looked at her, his eyes softening. He tucked the stray strand of hair behind her ear, then placed an arm gently around her. "You're not the only one who feels that way, you know."

"Says the one who was wearing a frilly tea towel when I met him." Scoffed Daisy, rolling her eyes. "But thank you for trying anyway, Kreacher. What exactly did you want? You must have come here for something."

Instantly, he debated telling her what she wanted to hear: that he had come looking for her, for her companionship. But, thinking on that, he decided that that would probably be pressing his luck a bit more than he should. "Oh, yes!" He said instead, as if he forgot, "I need your help. I've got some people I need to bring to Hermione and the group is a bit too large for me to pop over by myself. She suggested I ask you, as you may enjoy where we are going."

She looked at him inquisitively, before changing her mind. "I'm not even going to ask." She chuckled airily, "But after we have 'popped' all over creation, I intend to have my solitude!"

"If you insist." Kreacher bowed his head slightly, "But I implore that you save your final decision for after our journey."

Waving him off, she snapped her fingers and they suddenly found themselves in the middle of the crowded dining table at Grimmauld Place. "Uh.." She stuttered, a delicate blush staining her cheeks, "That didn't go quite as planned. Hi, everyone...?"

"Fancy meeting you here!" One of the Weasley twins joked, from his seat directly in front of where Daisy had appeared.

The other twin looked crestfallen, "It appears your desert is prettier." He pouted, "No offense, Kreacher."

"Some taken, dear Georgie Porgie, I may never recover from that grave insult upon my person," He gasped, clutching his chest dramatically.

George laughed, "Funny. What's up guys? It's always lovely to have you drop in, but next time... maybe aim for seats."

"No time for seats," Kreacher explained, attempting to make it seem like they had meant to land on the table. "Hermione would like us to bring you to her."

Kingsley abruptly excused himself, murmuring, "Sorry, but I have an early day. And, I probably shouldn't know anything about— anything at the moment." After walking from the room, he turned and disappeared, off to find the next great adventure. Or, sleep, whichever came first.

"Where to?" The twins asked in tandem, standing up alongside Harry. All three fixing Kreacher with solemn stares. Expecting the unexpected was becoming the norm.

Sirius was the next to stand, followed by James and Remus. Their wives and Ginny shared a long look, before also rising. "No time like the present, I suppose," Tonks declared, sending a message to her mother letting her know they were going to meet Hermione, and requesting she look after Teddy. The later was a given, as the older woman had just left with her grandson to put him to bed for the night.

Ron and Neville were the only two left sitting, having a hushed conversation as to whether they should follow their boss or their friends lead. "In or out? We are leaving, now, so make up your minds." Kreacher declared, after Daisy sighed impatiently for the hundredth time.

Minds apparently made up, they nodded resolutely before standing. "We're in." Ron declared.

"For better or worse," Neville added.

Rolling his eyes at the sentimental moment, Kreacher held out his hand to Daisy, who lightly placed her hand atop his. "This would be easier if you told me where we were going." She whispered, only mildly irritated.

"And ruin the surprise?" He laughed genuinely, "Not a chance." Turning to address the group as a whole, he warned everyone to hold on, not specifying to what they should be holding onto. And then, they simply disappeared.

————

_Camelot, the Hall of the Round Table_

—

It felt as if Kreacher had been gone forever. Galahad had taken to pacing, impatiently waiting for his sister to appear with Lady Hermione's friends. Regulus had placed his head on his hands shortly after the elf had left, and had begun making sleep noises nearly immediately.

Hermione, seated next to him once again, was rubbing slow circles across his back, while staring off into space contemplatively. The library hadn't been able to provide her with much more than she had found initially, so she returned shortly after she left. Much quicker than her first trip, as she was able to apperate now that she knew where she was going.

"Where are you Kreacher?" She sighed, breaking the silence.

"I'm right here, calm down!" The elf announced loudly, seconds later, popping into the room with a dozen other bodies.

Two blurs collided, before Hermione could even respond to Kreacher's abrupt entrance. "Daisy!" Galahad yelled, as he grasped his sister closely.

"Gally!" She cried, "How is this...? How are you..?"

They both laughed at how emotionally they were acting. "Merlin." Galahad said simply, trying to hide the fact that his cheeks were wet with tears.

"Welcome to Camelot!" Hermione cried, distracting the rest of the group from the siblings tearful reunion.

Blinks, and gasps were all that could be heard. Until the twins noticed the table. "Hey, isn't that the table from our library?" Fred asked, squinting his eyes.

"Tiny!" George called, leading to the little elf's arrivals "Is this a joke? What is our table doing... wherever we really are?"

Tiny bowed and toed the floor, "Master, and other Master, this is Camelot. And yes, it is the same table. But it belongs here, it was never meant to stay at the Keep. Tiny was meant to be protecting it, until the time it was needed again. Today."

"I see." George said, steepling his fingers. He turned to Hermione, "you may have our library table, but the library is mine! Mwahaha... kidding, anyway, what are we doing here?"

Hermione gasped out a laugh, "I've left the ministry, officially, at Kingsley's request. And, now, I find myself in need of a group of people to help me with my work. I could think of no better people to ask, then those in this room. Those that would go somewhere, anywhere, for me. Without even being told where that place was, or why." She looked each and every person in the eye in turn. A small, nervous, smile playing on her lips.

You see, sometimes even the great Hermione Granger had bouts of insecurity. She was a lonely child, after all, a bookworm. Bullied and isolated before she got to Hogwarts, all the while with things happening around her that she didn't understand. It was times like these that brought those insecurities out, even if she was surrounded by people she loved and trusted.

For that reason, Hermione Granger all but held her breath. Until two females stepped forward. "We're in." Tonks declared, grinning from ear to ear. "We were going to make you include us anyway, you know?" She stage whispered, throwing Hermione an exaggerated wink. The air whooshed out of Hermione's lungs in great, gasping bouts of laughter. She grinned at the pink haired Auror.

"Can't have them without us." James stepped forward, throwing an arm around Lilly's waist. Remus mirrored him, lowering his head in acceptance of the invitation, saying, "I can't wait to see what your brilliant mind has gotten us all into."

Sirius laughed, throwing himself in between his friends and slinging his arms over their shoulders. "If they're in, I'm in," he coughed, "uh, I mean— I've got your back, soon to be sister. We're family nonetheless, and family's got to stick together. Right?" Hermione nodded, slowly. This could be— interesting, with Sirius involved.

"Family sticks together," Harry echoed, "Therefore, although I'm sure it's unnecessary to say I'm in— I am. In, that is. Uh, yeah, whatever you need and all that rot." He said, attempting to wave the attention off of himself.

"Same," Ron agreed, trying to help Harry out of the spotlight. "Although, Percy is probably the better Weasley for the job."

"We take offense to that statement." Fred exclaimed, George nodding his head vigorously as he added, "But we are willing to prove our worth, count us in."

Ginny stepped forward, "I'll help, if I can be of use. It being the off season and all, Merlin knows I've got the time." She laughed, "And I never got the pleasure to take part in one of the adventures that you lot seemed to have all the time." Hermione wrapped her friend in a hug, murmuring her thanks.

Neville was the only one standing in the same position he had been. "I want to say yes, you know I'll always help with anything you need. But with Kingsley's quick departure when it was mentioned that we would be meeting you somewhere unknown, I'm wondering about what it would mean for my current state of employment."

Hermione raised her eyebrows. She hadn't thought of that. Apparently Ron hadn't either, if his face was anything to go by.

She sighed, "I wish I had an answer for that. I'm still working with the ministry, just not for it... it's complicated. Kingsley told me to gather a team, so I assume that the same would apply to my chosen associates. But I will have to ask what exactly that entails."

Neville nodded, staying quiet for a moment before exclaiming, "Bloody hell! Why not? Let me know what you find out, but I'm in either way." The whole group cheered.

An unexpected voice piped in from across the room, "I will help, if you'd like." It was Daisy. Speaking softly as ever, yet heard loud and clear. "The island has many resources. As does Camelot. Galahad knows those here, better than most. He would be glad to help too." The elf in question nodded his agreement.

"As would I." Kreacher added, making his continued presence known, "I also have knowledge that many do not, although not quite as ancient. It may still be valuable." Regulus smiled openly at his elfin friend, clapping him on the back.

Tiny stepped forward too, not to be outdone by Kreacher, "Let me know if I can be of assistance. If my twins are here, then I will be too." The Twins grimaced. That elf sounded too much like their mother at times.

"Thank you!" Hermione gasped, clasping her hands together. "You have no idea how much of a relief it is to know I'll be surrounded by the people I love the most in this world."

Sirius, in a totally Sirius way, guffawed. Sticking his tongue out at his younger brother he exclaimed, "Ah, sorry Reggie, she loves me most."

Regulus simply rolled his eyes, as Hermione walked up to his brother and clasped him on the shoulders. "Yes, Sirius. You're right. I love you, you're my density."

He bought it hook, line and sinker, gulping feverishly as Regulus choked back his laughter. "Finally!" Sirius exclaimed seriously, "Somebody gets me!"

"Yes," Lilly said, patting him on the head. "You are her density, Siri." She laughed and shook her head, "Regulus is her destiny, and you are definitely everyone's density."

Sirius' eyebrows drew together, he could tell he was missing something, but it was escaping him. "Aren't they the same thing?" He asked searching Lilly's eyes, then Hermione's, before looking to James.

James closed his eyes briefly, "Oh, mate... no, no they are not." He laughed softly.

And then the lightbulb clicked on in Sirius' mind, "Density... dense... Hey!" He yelled, looking accusingly at Hermione. "You can have her Reg, this one's too mean for me." He couldn't help but chuckle, despite the joke being on him. "I'm still special." He argued.

Remus patted his shoulder consolingly, "You're very special Sirius." At the icy glare shot his way, he held his hands up, laughing, "What? Too soon?"

"You think?" Sirius shot back, causing laughter to spread through the room again.

A serious Lilly cleared her throat, "Alright, enough playing around. Are you going to tell us what we will be working with, on, around, whatever?" She smiled guiltily, "The suspense is killing me, just the slightest bit."

Hermione mirrored her, turning serious once more. "You heard the lady, playtime is over!" She joked, taking a seat at the table, and gesturing for the others to do the same. When everyone was seated, like the Knights from long ago, she continued. "Technically, we've all been already studying the subject. At least anyone that's played Prinkles with the renegade cans..." several gasps were heard, but none more surprised than Remus and James.

"That was you?!" They gasped in unison, staring at Hermione.

She blushed and looked down, "Guilty, as charged. It was a bit of an accident." She admitted. "I've been studying the sands of time. I managed to manipulate them, change their properties and find uses for some of them. Now I've just got to put those theories to the test, and see how far I— Sorry, we, can get."

"In time?" Sirius asked, "You're sending us back in time?" He looked at her, shock written on his face.

She couldn't help it, she laughed. "No, Sirius," Hermione explained patiently, "I mean in applying them to magic. For instance, with something like the two way mirrors we could make instant communication devices. We could make shields that deflect spells safely to the side of the shield, or that rebound them directly back on the caster.

We could use the pensive as the basis for a magical broadcast system like the muggle tv. Or make time turners that are completely customizable, round trip, one way, destroyed on use.

With the arch as a base, we could make floo's that go to places at a certain time, that don't need floo powder, or hold things at a certain time, like food, without needing a stasis spell, like a muggle refridgerator— only better.

Instead of using the dementors kiss we could, theoretically, simply erase someone from history. The applications are— endless. But we need to find the limitations and create failsafes for everything before the knowledge of time magic becomes public."

"It would cause an uproar," Lilly whispered breathlessly, "I can see how Kingsley needs to separate himself from this line of research. Someone could go back and save you know who... we could be at war all over again."

James widened his eyes, speaking softly, but steadily, "Or Grindewald."

"Or worse," Remus added, straight-faced, "Both."

Harry was all but grey, "Blimey, Hermione. This is a lot to take in. We will do whatever it takes to ensure this stuff doesn't get into the wrong hands."

"Definitely." Ron added, looking about the same shade of puce as Harry. Neville nodded along, a bit lighter than usual, but not as bad off as the other two of his Gryffindor roommates.

Hermione swallowed thickly, "Exactly. It's sensitive stuff. The lot of it, which is why it was such a big deal when the canisters went missing. I've no idea exactly what they're capable of." Harry blushed guiltily, murmuring a barely audible apology, that was quickly waved off.

"I will figure out logistics." Galahad announced, taking the first step. "I've got some ideas, but... I will have to see what is still functioning. The kingdom has been a bit understaffed as of late."

Tiny brightened, glancing at Daisy, "We know some elves that could help!" Daisy nodded. "We will start recruiting, quietly. Only the most trustworthy, of course."

"I think we could use some more help than just elves," Galahad admitted, sheepishly. "The goblins were responsible for security, but... I don't know any these days."

"Bill!" Fred and George yelled, causing Galahad to look at them questioningly.

He barked out a laugh, "You know a Goblin named— Bill? What kind of Goblin would name their child something so— human sounding?"

The twins looked chagrined. "Bill is a human." Fred corrected, George adding, "Our brother."

"Bill is our brother," Ginny stepped in, hoping to end the confusion, "He is Also a curse breaker who works with the goblins."

Galahad nodded in understanding, "That makes much more sense." He looked contemplative, "I'm not sure he would know the right kind of Goblins though. They tend to split themselves off into groups based on their strengths." He hmmed.

"Silvertongue!" Hermione exclaimed excitedly. "He is the Goblin who brought us to Emery's Castle, who completed the Rite."

Galahad raised an eyebrow, "Invite him to Camelot. Tomorrow, of course. It sounds like he is just what we need, or at least knows where to look." Hermione nodded and he added, "The real test will be to see if he knows the way."

"Is this a good stopping point?" Neville interrupted, yawning. He blushed profusely, sensing everyone's eyes suddenly upon him. "Sorry, I just... it's been a long day. I was going to do dinner than go home and sleep. This kind of just sprung up on me." He shrugged.

Hermione fixed him with a look, "Neville. Why didn't you say anything sooner? Of course, we can all go get some rest. Meet here tomorrow, whenever you can. I'll see what I can do about getting answers from a man that wants to know nothing about any of this by then. Thank you for coming." She turned to the group at large, "All of you."

One by one they trickled out, after testing they were able to apparate back in successfully. At last, only Kreacher, Daisy, Galahad, Hermione and Regulus remained. "Any thoughts?" Hermione asked.

"I'm pleased with the turn out," Regulus shrugged, "although, I do think we should ask Percy if he would like to join. Possibly Severus too, while Hogwarts is out. Minerva and Salazar might also be of use. Minnie for her knowledge of Ancient Scottish rites, as well as the obvious transfiguration. Salazar because he is rather ancient, and scary powerful."

Daisy and Galahad shared a look, Daisy speaking first, "We are honored to be a part of something so... unprecedented. Even if we are a bit anxious as to the possible misuses of such magic."

Galahad took over, speaking stoically, "It does seem like something Merlin would be most interested in. I have to wonder if this is somehow part of whatever he had—has, sorry, planned. Even still, I'm grateful to be surrounded in this place by people such as yourselves. Your friends, except the slow one, seem very caring and capable. I'm sure even the other has his uses, whatever they may be."

Regulus rolled his eyes, "Sirius is more of an action man than a thinking man. He's very quick on his feet. Deeply caring too, once you get past his 'don't know anything, don't see anything, don't care about anything that's not wearing a skirt' act. He's afraid of being seen as dim for real, so he acts stupid instead... at least that way the only thing people are judging is what he pretends to be, not how he really is."

"Sirius has been like that since Regulus became the favorite with his parents." Kreacher explained. "It's not either boys fault, the fault lies with their mother— and to a lesser extent, their father, who did nothing to stop it."

Regulus made a noise of agreement. "I'd drink to that. But I think we'd better be getting home. The day we've had if I started drinking, this one would have to figure out how to get me home without splinching my stupid drunk arse. Liquor has a way of bringing out the stupid in me." Hermione laughed and smacked him playfully. "Really though, we should be getting back. Figure out what to bring tomorrow and all that."

"Will you be okay?" Hermione asked Galahad, concern clouding her eyes. He had been alone for far too long.

Galahad was touched, although he tried to downplay it. "I'd be alone in my room anyway." He laughed, "Really, I'm a big elf, promise."

"I'm staying a while longer." Daisy reassured Hermione. "We have a lot to catch up on."

Kreacher, not wanting to be left out, volunteered to stay as well. "Just call if you need anything. I'd like to know more about this place too, I believe I foresee myself spending a considerable amount of time here. I wouldn't want to go into that blindly."

"He just wants to spend time with his girlfriend." Regulus whispered to Hermione. Not quietly enough though, as Daisy gasped and blushed prettily, while Kreacher made a noise of anger and snapped his fingers.

It wasn't until they arrived back at Grimmauld Place that Regulus noticed the sneaky elf had caused a pigs tail to sprout on his behind. He whined for hours, while trying in vain to get it to go away. Hermione was too amused watching the scene before her to be of much help. Finally, it disappeared of its own accord, and they descended into the land of dreams.

————


	37. Of-Knights-And-Men

————

**Chapter Thirty-Seven**

—

_Of Knights Men_

————

—

_Gringotts Bank, Silvertongue's Office_

—

A lone Goblin was seated at his desk, idly rifling through a stack of papers taller than he was. On occasion, he would make a noise of surprise, of triumph, or of frustration, each shortly followed by the scratching of his quill upon the page. He corrected, he tweaked, he rephrased and rewrote. Over and over, until his eyes ached, his fingers burned, and he was overcome by the dreaded feeling of boredom. Until, suddenly, a letter appeared in front of him, as if someone out there in the big wide world heard his prayer and had granted him a brief moment of respite.

Fingers shaking he picked it up, finding that the wax seal was still warm. This was not some musty old something just being dug from the bowels of an old estate. Finally! Something new! Gingerly, he opened the missive, using his 'good' letter opener, reserved only for special occasions. This was a special occasion, he reasoned, not that he had many special occasions or correspondences come his way.

He read it aloud, in an attempt to absolve himself of the ever present silence. "To the Goblin Silvertongue, Gringotts Bank." He chuckled at it's awkward wording, definitely written by a witch or wizard without much experience corresponding with Goblins. Interested, he continued reading, "Your presence is requested in Camelot this day. We will await your presence in the Hall of the Round Table. There is much to discuss." That was the entirety of the message, save for a take on a customary Goblin greeting, repurposed as a closing. "May your vaults never be empty, and your gold always flowing." The goblin nodded, "Simple, but sufficient, I like it. Now, who are you from?"

Trailing a finger to the bottom of the page, he attempted to read the name scrawled neatly at the bottom. "Hermione Granger" he whispered, "and suddenly, my day is looking up! — and I get to leave this stuffy office. Now, how does one get to Camelot again?" He wondered aloud, "I know we were told stories growing up."

The door to his office swung open forcefully, his cousin Ironclaw bursting into the room unannounced. "Cousin, are your services available for a moment? We could use another head."

Silvertongue sighed, "I suppose I could help you, if you can help me." Ironclaw grinned, exposing his teeth in a ferocious display. Silvertongue grinned back, announciating carefully as he said, "I need to get to Camelot, urgently. I'm having trouble remembering the stories from all those years ago. Do you remember the way?"

Ironclaw, for the first time on record, dropped his weapon. It clattered to the floor, the sound echoing in the silence. He blinked once, twice, then about a dozen times in quick succession. "What is in Camelot?" Ironclaw asked, his Gobbledegook slurred in his haste to force the words out.

"My client, apparently. I believe it is some sort of a test. Not that she said as much." He sighed, "My presence was requested, and she stated we had 'much to discuss'. No specifics."

Ironclaw nodded distractedly, thinking fast, "I think we need to see Griphook." He turned to leave the room, moving as brusquely as he had upon entrance. "My meeting can wait. I have the sneaking suspicion that this may be bigger than either of us realize."

Nodding, Silvertongue followed his cousin through various winding tunnels, up several flights of stairs, and into the reception room of the Goblin who had just been named the new Head Goblin of Gringotts.

Ironhook banged on the door. Impatiently waiting for it to be answered. Soon enough, it was flung open by an angry looking Griphook. "Why are you pounding on my office door? What is the meaning of this? Speak! Now, or you'll leave one head shorter than you came." Silvertongue swallowed thickly, but Ironclaw was unaffected by the threat.

Grabbing the letter from his cousins hand, he thrust it towards the Head Goblin, who grabbed it impatiently, reading it almost silently until he came to the location of the proposed meeting, and the lack of specifics the missive contained. "I see." He sighed, "You were right to come to me. Come in, come in —but don't touch anything! I've just had the furniture re-gilded, and you will not mess it up before I've had the opportunity to enjoy it properly!"

He walked to a small shelf in the back of his office, fiddling with several minuscule books, until finding the one he was looking for. Flipping the pages rapidly, he let loose a ferocious cry of triumph, before rushing to the large Goblin made mirror taking up an entire wall, behind his desk.

Chanting in Gobbledygook, he read the passage that had caused him such excitement. Then, towards the end of the page, he extended his hand to the frame of the mirror, slicing his palm purposefully on a hidden object embedded into it.

"When it glows," He panted, his hand hovering just over the surface of the mirror, his blood splashing to the ground, "we walk through. All of us. I would not miss this meeting for all the gold in the world." The other two goblins nodded, waiting for the glow to appear.

As soon as Griphook placed his palm on the mirror, the sound of ancient Goblin battle songs surrounded them. This was shortly joined by the sound of weapons clashing together, as if a battle were taking place within the mirror. The sound of hooves, of horses screaming came next, and then, with the smell of ozone, a blinding light replaced the reflection. "Wait!" Cried Griphook, seeing his companions were about to walk into the mirror, where they would surely perish. They jerked to a stop.

The light faded slowly, their reflections returning. A subtle glow was all that remained of the light. "Now!" He called weakly, watching as they stepped through the formerly solid surface of the mirror, then he followed.

————

_Grimmauld Place_

_—_

Regulus sat on the end of the bed he shared with Hermione. He watched forlornly as random items of clothing sailed over his head, coming to rest in a pile that was growing alarmingly fast. The door, open before him, was looking more inviting by the second.

"Darling, you look beautiful in whatever you wear." He called to Hermione.

She spun around, so fast she was a blur for a moment, "I look passable in whatever I wear," she half agreed, "but who could take me seriously wearing two left shoes, or unmatched socks, or... seriously?!" She yelled, holding up an item of clothing so hideous she had no idea what it was even supposed to be. "Who has been in my closet?! Half of this junk isn't even mine! It's like..." gasping, she turned her head to look at something in the depths of the closet a little more closely, "the trunk is leaking Merlin's old nastiness into my closet!"

Regulus shook his head, that explained it. "Well, then, go without shoes or socks. That way nothing has to match, and you can exude an air of being powerfully comfortable." He suggested.

She sighed again. Throwing her hands in the air as she wandlessly shut the closet door. "Grab that pile." She commanded, gesturing to the one she'd shrunk at some point in the wee hours of the morning. Setting to work on the other pile, she sent everything to an open trunk on her bed. She never imagined that her old Hogwarts trunk might be useful again, but here she was. Shrinking it, she placed the trunk in her pocket and linked arms with her wizard, apparating them to Camelot— admittedly a lot later than originally intended.

————

_Camelot, the Hall of the Round Table_

_—_

Galahad and Daisy were enjoying a peaceful breakfast, when multiple things happened at once. Kreacher waltzed into the hall, hurriedly adjusting his clothes with one hand, while straightening his hair with his other hand. A large mirror that occupied the entirety of one of the walls began emitting the most terrifying noises anyone in the room had ever heard, before bursting into a blinding light, not unlike one of Merlin's sensory deprivation tricks.

The light threw of Kreacher's balance, sending him flying through the air. Just in time for the air to ripple, bringing new voices into the fray.

"Merlin!" Hermione's voice could be heard yelling, from somewhere within the light. Regulus was just ranting and raving, mostly nonsensical half-words at this point.

The sound of clashing weapons, followed by a pounding of horses hooves washed over the hall, as Kreacher landed somewhere with a sickening thud. Then, as the light began to dim, a crunch, a moan, followed by another crunch, and its corresponding moan, and then a third. Kreacher yelling, "Oy! I'm not a welcome mat, thank you very much." As he struggled to stand.

Three imposing looking Goblins strode from within the light, as it was seemingly sucked back into the now rippling and churning surface of the mirror. Each lookin down upon the poor elf on the floor as they passed him, smiling savagely.

"Griphook!" Hermione greeted, as she recognized the Goblin taking the lead. "Silvertongue, so nice to see you both again, and who do we have here? I've never met him before." She furrowed her eyebrows trying to place the familiar looking Goblin.

Griphook laughed uproariously, by Goblin standards, "Be glad you have not had the displeasure, Miss Granger. Ironclaw here is one of our... fixers... if you will. If there is a problem, he fixes it. Usually by force."

She wanted to gasp, but refrained, instead only inclining her head to the Goblin in question. "I'm glad to be meeting you in these circumstances then, Ironclaw," she attempted a joke, to relieve the sudden tension in the room, "as I'm hopeful I will never have use of your services within the bank, or be subject to them."

The Goblin grinned a feral smile. Silvertongue interrupted this exchange, before it could devolve into his cousin boasting about his abilities, and inflating his own ego. "Miss Hermione, your missive was quite unexpected, yet certainly not unwelcome. To what do we owe the honor of a meeting in this hallowed place?" He asked congenially.

With a small smile of thanks, Hermione turned towards the Goblin she had had the most recent interaction with.

"Sorry for the last minute letter, Silvertongue." She began, "I am most pleased that you all were able to attend. Yesterday, I unexpectedly fulfilled my final inheritance—at least what I hope is my final surprise inheritance. Camelot. I was looking for a place to conduct some tests for work, and it needed to be very secure. This place seems perfect." She stated, wringing her hands.

"When our meeting was drawing to a close last night, we were going over some specifics— one of which being security. Galahad," She gestured to the winged elf in question, "made mention of the fact that traditionally, the Goblins had been charged with the security of the Kingdom. He suggested we try to find some that may still know the way here, and vetoed many other branches of Gringotts before I thought of you and yours."

Galahad, being impatient in the morning interrupted, "What Miss Granger is trying to say, is that of all the Goblins, one that had the knowledge to enact the ancient rite that you did would be our best bet at finding a Goblin that was able to breach the void and enter Camelot. A necessity for any Goblin that lived or worked here in the past. One that you three have, clearly, proven you are capable of today."

Silvertongue nodded, "Much has been lost in time, I'm afraid. Some of us," he gestured to Griphook, "maintain the relics that hold information detailing the past of our proud race. Which is why, upon hearing of this missive, my cousin Ironclaw and I departed at once to gain Griphook's advice on the matter. It was he who opened the path across the void."

Hermione smiled openly at one of the first Goblins she had ever met, "Well, Griphook, you certainly are always full of surprises. I hear you have received a promotion since we spoke last?" The Head Goblin bowed his head in acknowledgment of the statement. "Many congratulations, you've certainly put up with your fair share of inconveniently timed escapades during your time at the bank. I've no doubt that you earned your placement, many times over."

He grimaced, or the goblin equivalent of a shrug— it is very hard to tell the difference. "You're probably right, Miss Granger." Griphook replied, "Now, What is it you would have us do?"

"Reclaim your place in Camelot." Galahad spoke solemnly, "it is just as much your birthright as Hermione's. She has shared your current place in the world of wizards, and quite frankly it sickens me. The Goblins were our closest allies!" He yelled.

At that point three sets of eyes narrowed. "You're not a wizard!" Griphook gasped, edging closer to inspect the winged man. His sister stepped forward, implying that they were the same, as Kreacher followed suit. "What are you?" The Head Goblin asked, eyes full of wonder. "You look like the men from our ancient lore, when our ancestors were— whole. But that's... impossible."

"Impossible!" Echoed Silvertongue, while Ironclaw kept his mouth shut resolutely.

Daisy, head held high, stepped into the center of the room. "I am Daisy, of Avalon, High Elfin Priestess, that man before you is my brother Galahad, protector of Camelot, Knight of the Round Table."

"Elves?" Griphook roared, "Do you think we are fools? True Elves are extinct, leaving behind only the husks of elves that we know as House elves. Just as our ancestors shriveled into these forms."

Daisy sighed, "The elves were cursed. Alongside the goblins. I've set to work healing the house elves, I can see if our methods work for your men as well... although I'm not so sure I have to. Look at yourselves, you're changing already!"

She was right. Their skin was changing, stretching at an alarming rate. They looked at each other, stoic as ever, despite the fact that panic was running through them. "The void!" Griphook gasped, "The light!" Added Silvertongue.

"Like the thief's downfall, with a healing light?" Asked Hermione, arching an eyebrow, "Only this seems to be revealing and renewing your true form."

Griphook looked alarmed, "That... makes a lot of sense. The ancestors were trying to make something else when they discovered the substance we use in the thief's downfall. This must be what it was." He looked into the mirror, mesmerized at the changes happening at that very moment, "But what is it? And more importantly who could have done such a thing?"

Daisy and Hermione shared a dark look, having discussed the possibilities of who could have cursed the elves, in length on many occasions. They sighed in tandem, before both murmuring, "Men."

"Wizards, you mean?" Griphook growled. Despite the pain of the transformation overtaking him, he refused to cry out. The pops and clicks sounding from within his own body were echoing grotesquely around the room.

Hermione shook her head. "No, men." She repeated, "Daisy and I have discussed this on several occasions, and there is only one logical conclusion: That the goblins and elves were cursed by men, without magical powers.

Men who were so disgruntled at the loss of Camelot, where they were treated as equals with Wizards, elves, goblins, etcetera, that they took it upon themselves to exact their revenge their loss and sudden inequality in the world at large. Using the only things they had left of their time in Camelot: Potions.

We believe that these men, probably not throughly muggles— more than likely squibs, or nearly so, were those that became known as the Pagans in muggle history. They had knowledge of spells, access to potions, knew all the lore that the witches and wizards did. They just didn't have the power." She lowered her head, closing her eyes for a moment, as previously unfelt emotions washed over her. It must have been terrible for those people, truly. But what they had done was equally so.

"And all the rest of us did." Daisy added. "Life carried on as usual for the Elves, for the Goblins, for Wizard kind. But the men of Camelot were thrust in with the mundane and simply didn't fit in anywhere. They were truly lost, and truly powerless for the first time ever."

Regulus gasped, "Thats when the first witch burnings started!"

Daisy nodded sadly, continuing in a small voice, "Powerless, and prosecuted, we believe they set their sights on revenge. Believing that everyone should suffer equally in their displacement. They pooled their resources, used everything they had left to bring down the Goblins and the Elves to a position of helplessness that they felt was equal to their own."

Hermione looked up at this point, eying the goblins, "But it didn't work. It only succeeded in drawing the Goblins, and the Elves further into the lives of the Wizards. The elves became servants, the Goblins advisors. Yes, their statuses were lowered, in the scheme of things, but they weren't suffering like they were intended to."

"So the men started a war," Daisy stated, taking over, "Pretending to be wizards, they aimed to ruin the Goblins in the eyes of the Wizards, forever. I'm sure you know the series of wars I am referring to. They were successful to a point, I'm afraid."

"But it wasn't enough," Hermione whispered, "The Wizards weren't suffering, and oh, they wanted them to suffer as they had been made to. So they did the only thing they could think of. They joined the men who had been so quick to burn them. Becoming friends with their enemy, pointing them in the direction of the real witches and wizards."

Regulus sighed, "The second burning. Of course." He looked at the floor, "It makes so much sense, yet none at all."

Strangely silent for the entirety of this discussion, a stony faced Galahad fled the room. His sister following him into the hallway, where he collapsed to his knees with a great heaving sob. "I did this!" He ranted. "I didn't do it myself, but I caused it, so I might as well have!"

"You didn't know." Daisy consoled him, laying a hand on his shoulder.

Galahad glared at her, "It doesn't matter if I knew, I was the one who caused Camelot to simply disappear. Displacing all those people!" He choked out a watery laugh, "All because of Merlin's stupid Grail Quest, the thing I was most proud of. It wasn't even the Grail, just a shiny chalice!"

Daisy quirked an eyebrow questioningly. "Well, what was the Grail then? I assume you know."

"Hermione." Galahad breathed, throwing his head onto his arms. "Hermione is the Grail, and she will save us all. From the mistakes I've made."

Daisy laughed, throwing her head back. "You always were so melodramatic!" She exclaimed. "Get up Gally, it's not your fault. You've ruined nothing that can't be fixed, and if you didn't do it someone else would have. This was all Merlin's fault. Merlin's plan. If you want someone to blame, I'd suggest looking to him for that."

"I blame us both." He spat, "He was the puppeteer, obviously, but I played the puppet perfectly. And now the outcome of my life's work is being paraded in front of my face. It's horrifyingly wrong as it turns out! Everything is— wrong!"

She nodded, he wasn't wrong. It was horrifying. This whole process must have taken forever to plan, Merlin must have put all of this in place painstakingly. He had, unfortunately, forgotten to think of one key element of the puzzle. One key element that would have changed the shape of the pieces entirely: freedom of choice. This, in the case of human nature, especially when affected by unforseen circumstances, was nigh on impossible to predict.

"And still," She sighed, "you must endeavor to carry on." Standing up, she held out a hand saying, "Congratulations, you see that you played an unfortunate part in this most unfathomable circumstance due to the plans of a master manipulator. Now your prize is that you get to help fix it. Up you get."

Reluctantly, Galahad took her outstretched hand, and pried himself up off the floor. "I'll do it." He whined petulantly, "But I don't have to like it." She knew he was joking by the barely masked quirk of his lips, and the wink he shot her way as he turned to re-enter the room.

"Attaboy Gally." Daisy laughed, shaking her head. Yes, she mused, she had missed such mundane things as looking after her big brother when he pulled things like this. Kreacher had been right, there was someone else that knew how she was feeling, and he hadn't been hinting at it being himself. Wonders never ceased, apparently. Speaking of wonders, she realized she was now standing alone in the hallway, staring into space. Holding her head high, she hurried to rejoin the others in the Hall.

She need not have hurried, however, because when she returned, the only thing that had changed was that the Goblins were standing in front of the mirror, staring at themselves and— "primping?" She gasped quietly. Daisy had seen a great many things in her life, but this was at the top of the list for the most amusing. Three fully grown men, almost 7 feet tall by her estimation, standing side by side in front of a mirror.

Running their hands through their hair, caressing their own cheeks, one was even inspecting his teeth— well, fangs, to be more exact. The one in the middle, previously the one caressing himself, began to make faces in the mirror, first silly, then angry, and finally a smoldering look.

"Ow!" He hissed, jumping back, a hand over his mouth. He chuckled, bringing his hand back to reveal a spot of bright red blood. "These chompers are bloody sharp!" He exclaimed.

"That's what I figured," said the one who had been examining his own, "Thanks for testing my theory, Ironclaw."

Ironclaw grinned, a look made even more menacing by the newly sharpened fangs, and towering height, "Anytime, Cousin."

"If you too are quite done," snorted the Goblin that could only be Griphook, "I think we need to continue our discussion." He was loathe to take his eyes off the mirror though, so his proclamation seemed slightly wistful. "It's funny," Griphook mused, "I never knew what we were missing, that what we were was wrong, and yet this feels so right."

Ironclaw laughed boisterously, "And look at these beasts!" He posed, flexing his biceps. The other occupants of the room could do nothing other than blink.

That was all it took to draw Griphooks attention fully away from the mirror, "Okay, yes, we are done here." He announced with finality, pulling the other two Goblins towards the middle of the room. Reaching out a hand, he made a motion from the ceiling towards the floor, and a long red curtain covered the distractingly reflective surface that adorned the wall behind it. "Where were we?" He asked, clearing his throat.

"Camelot." Kreature responded, ever quick to the punchline. He was quickly struck across the back of his head by Daisy, who was learning this particular form of chastisement from Hermione. She had to admit, it worked wonders.

Hermione smirked at their antics. "He's not wrong, we were speaking of Camelot, and the Goblins return to it, and protection of it. Some of you, all of you. On a part time basis, full time, whichever you want. Whatever you need."

Ironclaw smirked, "Will we grow again? If we come back—" he gasped, eyes going wide, "Will we shrink it we leave?!"

Rolling his eyes, Silvertongue took a cue from Daisy, and cuffed him across the head. "Shut up you great lump! Let the grown ups talk." Ironclaw grumbled, but said nothing.

"Thank you," sighed Griphook, weary from his impromptu transformation. He turned back to Hermione, choosing his next words carefully, "You have honored us twice today, Miss Granger. First, with your invitation, next with our return to our true forms. This alone makes my decision easier, personally." He sighed once more, eying his companions, "However, this is neither a personal decision, nor is it one I can make alone."

Nodding, Hermione smiled kindly at the three goblins. "Of course." She said demurely, "I expected nothing less."

"I will call a meeting," Griphook declared, glancing once more at the new shape of his body. Taking a moment to take stock of it all, flexing his fingers, wrists, elbows, so on, and so forth. All the way down to his toes, noting the reddish brown tint of his skin, a color so different from the nearly translucent parchment color he was upon arrival.

With a deep breath, he finished his thought, "I have no doubt that there will be questions. Resistance. Fear even, though I'm loathe to admit my people feel such plebeian emotions." Chuckles erupted around the room. "We will decide, as a nation, how to proceed. I, in my capacity of Head Goblin of Gringotts, will be unable to act as protector of Camelot, without renouncing my title. However, I suspect that Gringotts may be no more by the end of the meeting. Merlin help Wizardkind if that comes to pass."

The color drained from the faces of the only witch and wizard in the room. That was not a possibility either had considered, even briefly. Hermione, however was always quick on her feet. Undeterred, she smoothly nodded her head. "I sincerely hope it doesn't come to that," she said solemnly, "But I would understand wanting to get out from under the thumb of wizardkind. I would caution you, if I may be so bold, that that may not be a bridge you want to burn right now. Not yet, at least. It may cause another war, this time over something that could be avoided. Might I suggest simply divide and conquer? Regardless of who stays where, I would want for all of your people to be— I don't want to say healed, refreshed, maybe?"

Regulus cleared his throat, "I believe you may have something else you could do for them, love."

"And, pray tell what would that be?" She demanded, looking every bit as confused as she felt.

He smiled brazenly, "Well, I do believe we have some sway on a certain group in the ministry now, namely one formerly made up of ancient purebloods."

"What does the wizengamot have to do with anything right no—oh!" She gasped. "Of course. We could sponsor a bill... wait, Griphook!"

The Goblin in question simply stared at her, wondering what in the world this slip of a girl was on about now. And why was she looking at him that way? He grinned at her awkwardly, hoping she would speak soon.

"The curtain." She intoned, pointing at the red curtain over the mirror.

Griphook shook his head, yes he saw the curtain. It was huge, it was grand, and velvety, probably very expensive if one had to purchase such an exquisite work of art. "Yes? What about it. I think it's lovely?" He barked, not liking being as confused as he felt, especially on top of his current state of being physically drained.

"It exists." Hermione stated plainly, "It didn't before, and now it does. The bill I was thinking of, would return your rights to use wands. But that curtain makes me think you wouldn't need that particular right."

The Goblin goggled at the girl, thinking she had lost her mind. How would a piece of fabric make her think something so stupid! Of course they would need the right to use wands, if they wanted to practice magic! Silly girl. He felt like he was missing something.

"You did magic!" Silvertongue gasped.

Oh. That. Wait... Griphook choked on air, "I manifested the curtain." He said quietly. "I—", the Goblin broke off before finishing his meaningless repetition, he held his hand towards the floor in a fist, raising it slowly towards the ceiling while opening his fingers. The curtain raised as if it were being drawn up by a rope.

He flung his hand towards the ceiling, wiggling his fingers, watching in glee as galleons, sickles and nuts poured down from it, as if it were raining money. "I can do magic!" He roared, spinning around. He fixed Hermione with an unfathomable look. "Write the bill, just in case. After all, we don't know how many will be able to do magic without a wand. I will bring your concerns up at the meeting, from my perspective of course. You are right in your points, as I've heard you often are."

She nodded, speechless. While Regulus could do nothing more than stare open mouthed. Was nothing what it seemed anymore? Was any of this even real? He didn't know.

"No time like the present," Griphook shrugged, "Also, I've always wanted to try that app-a-rating thing you lot do all the time." He grabbed his two companions by the arms, snapped his fingers, and they simply vanished.

"Well.. That was interesting..." Breathed Kreacher, staring wide eyed at the place the Goblins had been merely seconds before. "Can't say I expected the meeting to go that way... Although, I honestly can't say what I expected, kind of hard to predict the actions of the Goblins."

Hermione shared a look with Regulus, "That fact right there. That. Is what I am most afraid of. I trust Silvertongue, Griphook too, the rest of them... I'm not sure what to expect. What if they tell the whole Goblin nation who we suspect of cursing them, and they decide to take their own revenge." She sighed, "The Goblins are a fearsome warriors, even the nicest ones."

"The Redcaps, however, aren't so nice," Regulus added, "If they went after humans... well, we wouldn't have to worry about the statute of secrecy anymore. But with all this 'pure blooded muggleborn' stuff going around, people that we know could be affected. Their parents and friends killed."

Galahad, who had been strangly silent for an extended period of time, spoke suddenly. "They have been wronged, and they are a proud people. Always have been. They will probably react, you are right to think that and wise to expect it. But they will also be aware that anyone responsible for the acts against them would be long dead by now." He chuckled, "Yes, The redcaps have a certain fondness for blood, but they're not senselessly violent— just purposefully so. I suspect it will be alright."

"Yes, you're probably right." Hermione sighed, feeling slightly reassured. But somewhere, deep in the back of her mind, a single, unnamed worry still niggled.

She tried to block it out as best as she could, setting herself the task of getting ready for the reappearance of her friends, and delegating tasks to everyone else to further that pursuit.

In the end, she deemed it a success. Seeing as only one interruption, in the form of a patronus —from a very tired sounding Kingsley Shackelbolt, no less-had taken place, they were able to set up not only a research room, but also a fully functioning laboratory, for the task at hand.

—

Conveniently, there was a space located just between the Hall of the Round Table, and the library, inside a small tower, and off of a large orchard. This, it was decided, was the perfect place for their headquarters. The later detail was specifically for the purpose of preventing Ron from having to sneak off for hours to go find food. The rest was simply for convenience sake.

Last minute, Regulus decided they needed an owlery, and set to readying one at the top of the tower, for any owls that could be housed there. Or any that happened to drop by with missives, a more likely scenario. It was upon inspection of said owlery, that Hermione remembered she needed to reach out to Percy.

Especially now that Kingsley had informed her that she could freely poach his ministry workers for her project, with pay. The fact that he would be working to start a new branch of the ministry, possibly even establishing the rules for said branch, would be enough to have that particular Weasley jumping for joy. Albeit stoically, as that was his standard form.

Maybe Bill would join them too, after the Goblins decided where their cards would fall, of course. It could be a true Weasley affair by the end of things. The thought made her chuckle.

Just then Galahad waltzed in, gazing appreciatively around the room. "Nice set up. Although it's a little small, don't you think?"

Regulus quirked an eyebrow at the winged elf. "Can't have the winged beasts getting spoiled now can we? What, do they need ensuite's as well?"

Chuckling, Hermione halfheartedly smacked him on the arm. "Hush, Regulus. Remember Camelot is all about treating other species equally," She joked, before turning her attention to Galahad, "We don't have need of a dragon tamer do we? The only Weasley child not represented here is poor Charlie, in Romania."

Galahad's eyes widened. "You were going to let them in here without being tamed?!" He exclaimed loudly.

Suddenly, Regulus got the feeling they were on two separate pages of the same book. "Galahad, you are aware this is an owlery, right? You know, for post owls?" The winged man's brows furrowed, and Regulus gasped, "You thought this was lodging for Dragons? — It would be too small for that, you're right."

Galahad looked defensive, "I've never heard of post owls before you mentioned it. I was going to suggest you lodge your dragons in the dragon stables, away from any forests or buildings they could burn down. But I was trying to be nice."

"Wait. There are dragon stables?" Hermione asked seriously, head spinning, "Are there dragons in Camelot?"

Shaking his head sadly Galahad responded, "the last Dragon in the Kingdom passed through the veil many years ago. She was my only companion. Historically, yes, there were a few dragons in Camelot. Merlin was a dragonlord, you know?"

"I hadn't heard." Hermione responded with a shrug. "Maybe we could get Charlie to bring over some dragons, eventually. But that is a task for another day."

Galahad nodded, "I would like that." He turned to inspect the room again, now knowing what it was actually for. It made much more sense, except, "One question though...where do you get the owls?"

Regulus and Hermione laughed uproariously. "Stores that sell them, Gally." Hermione said, smiling, "We will have to bring you to Diagon Alley. I think you would like it there."

"And it would get you out of Camelot for a little bit." Added Regulus, wiping tears from his eyes. He cast a quick tempts, noting that it was still well before noon, "We could probably do it now. I'm guessing no one will show up until after work, or at least lunch."

Galahad looked at Hermione hopefully. He didn't remember the last time he'd left Camelot. He could certainly do with a change of scenery, and maybe a new companion. "Please?" He asked, voice saccharine sweet.

She pinched the bridge of her nose, exhaling slowly before throwing her arms in the air. "Fine. A quick journey to Diagon." Regulus and Galahad cheered, while Daisy and Kreacher, who had just arrived in the room, wondered what was going on.

"We're going to Diagon Alley," Regulus filled them in, dancing out of the room.

Kreacher shrugged, it was no big deal to him. But, watching daisy shriek in excitement at the thought of a new adventure, suddenly the prospect became more exciting to the grumpy elf. Holding out his arm in a gentlemanly fashion, he smiled gently at the fair headed elf. "Will you do me the honor of letting me be your escort for this—excursion?" He asked, hopefully, watching with no small amount of satisfaction as a light blush stained her cheeks.

She nodded, looping her arm in his. "Lead on, Sir. Black."

He looked at her questioningly, "Why do you call me that?" His last name had never been brought up before, come to think of it he wasn't sure he actually had one. So used to being simply Kreacher, it truly just had never come up.

"Well, what would you like me to call you? Just Kreacher?" She blinked, a teasing smirk on her lips. "That is your family, right? You're connected to their magic, know all their deep, dark secrets. The properties recognize you. Are you not a Black?"

His breath caught. She was right. He had access to all the Black family holdings, and properties. He was privy to information that even Regulus had never learned. In all aspects other than blood, he supposed, he was a Black. Although, in order to become their house elf, he did have to do a ceremony binding him to the house, with blood. So maybe, just maybe he could actually claim the name for his own. "It seems so... although I'll discuss it with Regulus and Sirius later. Names are of a fair bit of importance in their world— our world, Merlin, I guess the world in general."

She laughed then, a gentle tinkling sound that stood out from the silence of the empty owlery. "Names have power. More so than any witch, wizard, elf or man realizes. It doesn't surprise me to hear they're important." Daisy smiled at him, tugging his arm towards the direction the others had left in.

Kreacher shook his head, "We can go from here. I sense Regulus in Diagon Alley already, impatient arse that he is. It would be pointless to follow their path downstairs, if they're not even here anymore." She didn't even have time to blink before they suddenly appeared in Eyelop's Owl Emporium.

————

_Gringott's Wizarding Bank, Diagon Alley_

_—_

A sound that hadn't been heard for centuries echoed through the cavernous hallways and rooms of Gringotts. To the Goblin people, it sounded like singing. To the wizards, who were startled into a chaotic group effort do flee the premises, it sounded every bit like someone— or a lot of someone's, rather— were letting out blood curdling screams.

As the Goblins hurriedly escorted out any lingering wizards, they looked around, trying to figure out what was amiss that would warrant such an alarm to be disbursed through their otherwise peaceful workplace. It was blaring through the whole bank, however, leading them to believe it was not a simple isolated incident.

Once the doors were locked, and the floo's shut down, the anti-apparition shields were raised. And slowly, they followed each other, towards the loudest source of the ancient Goblin music. Halfbreeds, and few wizards, were interspersed with the Goblins, but every single person was just as curious as the next, regardless of their species.

Down they went, into the bowels of Gringotts herself. Deeper, and deeper yet, until they came to a stunned halt in an expansive series of caverns, usually reserved for holy days, mourning or revelry. It was not the first, and everyone held their breath, hoping the last option was the current situation. Although, what they would be celebrating or mourning was yet unknown.

And then it happened. The great doors at the far end of the room opened, revealing the forms of three giant beings, the like of which had never been seen before— at least by anyone in the room. All conversation came to a stunned halt, as they waded into the room, everyone in their paths dwarfed by the sheer size of them.

Upon seeing a shining adornment on the middle figures ring finger, the room exploded with noise once more. Until the three men finally reached the center of the room, and the one who was clearly in charge raised his hand. "Silence," he stated authoritatively. All eyes rested upon the man bearing the ring of the Head Goblin. "I have called you here today to discuss a great opportunity for our people. And a revelation that has been made this very morning."

The man to his left nudged him gently, whispering, "Griphook, you have to introduce yourself." He motioned to the sea of people staring at them in confusion, "They don't recognize you." Griphook rolled his eyes, heaving a great sigh.

He searched the crowd before him, and saw that Silvertongue was right. Unfortunately, he didn't think that simply introducing himself would do the trick in this instance. Thinking quickly, he drew his blade, watching as the redcaps in attendance readied for an attack upon the Goblin nation. So as not to drag out the alarm spreading through the room, Griphook quickly sliced his palm, watching as his blood dripped onto the stone floor beneath his feet.

"On my Goblin blood and magic, I swear that I am Griphook, Head Goblin of Gringotts." The blood before him sizzled as if electrified, before disappearing into the floor itself. A brilliant light surrounded the Goblin, declaring that he had spoken the truth. And the room exploded with noise once more, silenced only when the very changed Goblin rose his hand in the air.

"This morning, Silvertongue received a missive bearing an invitation to Camelot. — But only if we knew the traditional way. He and his cousin, Ironclaw, immediately sought me out, and we found the ancient texts detailing the way." He surveyed his people's reactions, noting a good bit of skepticism. Heedless of that fact, he continued, "We heard our ancestors traditional song, their battle cries. We saw the light, and knew the way. Through it we arrived in Camelot, where we met with the last remaining true Elves, and Hermione Granger— you may know her as best friend to the boy who lives, Harry Potter.

Miss Granger, is so much more. She is a friend and an Ally to the Goblins, and offered us a place in Camelot, the land of our ancestors. At that point, we noticed that the way to Camelot had changed us, and Miss Granger and her elven friend explained that a curse had been laid on the Goblin people many years ago. A curse that was broken by the power of our ancestors, during our return to Camelot.

I— we, have called this meeting, to decide our next steps as a nation. Do we return together to Camelot, or do some of us stay? Do we continue serving those who sought to oppress us, if not —what is to become of Gringotts?" He waved his hands, causing a series of papers to descend to each Goblin in the room, "We will put it to a vote. But first, I invite anyone with an opinion that they would like to express, to come forward and do so freely."

————

_Eylop's Owl Emporium, Diagon Alley._

—

The funniest thing Daisy had ever seen, was her big, tough brother, Galahad lowering himself nearly to the floor, to coo to a minuscule owl. "Well, isn't she just the cutest itty bitty wittle thing!" He said saccharinely, caressing it's head gently, "You're such a purdy bird, aren't you? Aren't you?!"

The grey owl squawked excitedly, tottering around on its nearly too small legs, head wobbling feebly. Kreacher rolled his eyes at the pathetic display. "She, is a He." He coughed, "but it seems to like your misguided attempt at giving it attention."

"He—"Galahad exaggerated, correcting himself, sweeping the owl into his palm protectively, "is going to grow up to be a strapping young lad. I can tell." Cradling his selected companion, he walked towards the sales counter.

The young man behind the counter looked up from his newspaper, adjusting his glasses clumsily. "Can I help you?" He asked, boredly. "Oh, that one's not for sale yet. Too small, not well trained, pick a reason." He shrugged and turned back to his paper.

Galahad looked outraged. "I am not leaving unless I take this owl with me." He stated seriously.

"Then you'll have to purchase his mother too. Bloody protective old bird!" The boy whined, holding up a bandaged hand.

Regulus, seeing Galahad was having an issue with the other man, walked up. He managed to overhear the last bit. "Ahem, if she is such a nuisance, why are you selling her to the public? School children buy their owls here, owls that their parents trust to be safe. On behalf of the Black family, I would like to express my disdain for such a practice. I have half a mind to go to the pet store on Knockturn from now on!" He growled.

The color drained from the younger man's face, "Master Black, I'm so sorry. I didn't see you there. Of course such a nuisance of an owl is steeply discounted. In fact, the mother is yours, sir, no charge."

Regulus sniffed haughtily, "And the untrained fledgeling?" He pressed, "what of him? Gally, are you sure you still want the beast? It looks of rather —poor— breeding stock." He slyly winked at Galahad, hoping he would play along.

"You raise a good point, Regulus." Galahad said, pretending to inspect the bird more closely.

The salesman looked aghast, but was trying futilely to hide his discomfort. "T-the—three Galleons." He stuttered, "For mother and fledgeling."

"One and a half. You said the mother was free." Regulus spat, eyebrow raised in defiance.

The man sighed, "Two galleons. I'll throw in some treats."

Regulus nodded in approval, before striding back to where Hermione was trying to console a panicked looking forward woman. "Everything alright, Love?" He asked, checking her face for signs of distress.

"They've locked down Gringotts, something about terrible, inhuman screaming and wailing." Hermione relayed, "There was a rush to evacuate all non-employees, and then the doors locked behind them." She sighed, begging for him to help explain this, with her eyes.

Regulus chuckled, "Goblins, so dramatic." He turned to the woman and placed a hand on her shoulder, "Nothing to worry about, that was their leader calling a meeting. I met with him earlier, and he did make mention of gathering the Goblins. Never mentioned when though, come to think of it. Something to do with their ancestors."

Hermione joined in, suddenly aware of how to proceed. "We heard that particularly unpleasant sound ourselves, they said it was their ancestral music, it did sound a lot like what you described. I'm sure everything will be fine." The lady, looking slightly reassured, proceeded to make her way into the store proper.

"Hermione," Daisy whispered from directly behind her, causing her to jump and swivel quickly. Thankful Regulus had the foresight to grab on to her, preventing her from toppling over in the middle of a store where people actually knew her, Hermione laughed at her clumsiness. "Sorry! I didn't mean to startle you, but— uh, this is awkward... what is a Galleon? Galahad is trying to pay for his owl... and, well, I think we may be a bit behind the times." She rushed, blushing prettily.

Regulus swore, muttering, "I forgot about that little detail," and rushing over to where Galahad was, once more, arguing with the salesman.

Alone now, Daisy looked Hermione in the eye. "I overheard your conversation," she admitted, "Do you really think everything will be fine?"

Hermione shrugged, pinching the bridge of her nose, "I want to say yes, because the Goblins love gold, and their whole business is based on it. But, honestly, I don't know." She sighed, "They've been marginalized, and lumped in with the creatures. Denied their magic, by the wizards. If they stay, it may not be pretty either."

Daisy nodded, frowning, "I see. That is... an unfortunate possibility." She shook her head, "Wizards have become strange."

Laughing in earnest, Hermione gasped, "You have no idea. Did you know," she whispered conspiratorially, "they think witches and wizards born of non magicals have stolen their magic from a witch or wizard?"

The elfin girl choked on a laugh, "That's the most ridiculous thing I've ever heard! Magic can't be stolen, it goes where it is called!" Hermione nodded and winked at her friend, leading her over to the boys, who were impatiently waiting to leave the store. They were looking anxious, and the girls saw why when they swung open the door of the shop.

It was pure pandemonium in the streets. With the doors to Gringotts locked, the whole Alley outside Eyelop's seemed to have ground to a standstill. Leaving everyone in a state of panic. Nothing violent had occurred, yet, but it was only a matter of time, as touchy of a subject as money was to people, wizards not excluded.

A familiar head of red hair passed by, and Hermione ran to his side. "Bill!" She called, panting as she tried to match his strides. He turned and acknowledged her presence, although his mind was clearly elsewhere. "Bill, what's going on?" She asked, trying to snap him out of it.

It worked. His eyes refocused and he zeroed in on her. "They've gone to —Camelot?" He said uncertainly, "All of them. Gone. To be cured of some curse, they said that Hermio— oh, of course, you." He shook his head, "Maybe I should be the one asking you the questions."

She chuckled, "I'm sure I can tell you the beginning, but you know more about recent developments. Are they closing Gringotts?"

He shook his head vigorously, "No, no, of course not. I don't think so, at least. Not sure they're going to re-open today though, or tomorrow— or the next, come to think of it. Merlin, I just don't know." The poor man was frazzled, Hermione noted.

"It's okay, Bill. Would you like to come back with us? See what all the fuss is about, maybe grab some lunch and calm down. The twins, Ron and Ginny should be stopping by soon." Hermione tried to placate him, speaking in a soothing tone.

"He needs a firewhisky," a welcome voice called, Sirius. He always seemed to show up at the strangest moments. Although, his assessment of this situation was probably not far from the truth. "Come on you lot, we need to get out of here. There's a mob of angry purebloods heading to the bank, and I think it's about to get nasty out here."

Regulus turned to his brother, "Fair observation. But what are you doing here? Not that I'm not happy to see my brother."

"Looking for you lot," he answered congenially, "Kingsley owled Harry — probably the rest of the Aurors too— to come to the Alley. I got your patronus about getting an owl, and figured I'd try to warn you of trouble brewing."

Regulus nodded. "Much obliged, shall we then?" He asked, receiving a nod in return. Out of the corner of his eye he saw a group of people, led by a conspicuously light haired man, approaching the bank. "It's about to begin. I see Malfoy, senior, leading his merry band of buffoons."

"Coming?" Hermione asked Bill, holding out her hand. He clasped it lightly, nodding in the affirmative, and she apparated them away from the madness that was Diagon Ally. As early as it still was, it was shaping up to be a very interesting day, indeed.

————

Back in the owlery, Galahad busied himself getting his owls settled in their new home, with a bit of assistance from Daisy, and Regulus. Although, only one of them had any experience with this particular action.

Kreacher, as helpful as ever, assisted by watching the show. That is, until he took pity on Regulus and insisted on escorting Daisy back to Avalon for a moment. She would need to change and prepare for the day ahead of them. Plus, she wanted to speak to the elves there about Camelot, among other things.

When they departed, just after Hermione had appeared—and subsequently disappeared, with a shell shocked Bill, Regulus heaved a sigh of relief. "Okay," He said weakly, looking at Galahad, "Now that there's considerably less commotion, this ought to go more smoothly. It's simple, they're rather smart." He eyed the tiny owl in Galahad's hand warily, "Even the small ones. His mother knows that this is home now, and he will follow her lead. She will teach him everything he needs to know about being an owl. But if you see something you really like him doing, make sure to toss him a treat— same goes for mother owl."

Galahad nodded appreciatively. "So, no bathing or grooming required? The dragons were rather— needy in that respect. Or maybe I was doting. I'm not sure, really."

"For Merlin's sake, don't throw them in the lake, or anything. But make sure they are getting enough to eat, and keep their nest clean. Just a simple cleaning charm will do, unless you'd rather do it yourself." Regulus instructed patiently. "Just keep your head about you! Now, if you want to send a letter, simply attach it to their foot, and tell them who to find. That's it."

Galahad gasped, "Magic!" Clapping gleefully, after setting the little owl in its new nest carefully.

"Magic indeed," Regulus laughed, shaking his head fondly, as he walked down the stairs to where Hermione was probably debriefing Bill. He began hearing her voice about halfway down, confirming his suspicion.

"I just... aggh, this is all so strange." Bill exclaimed, as his feet came into Regulus' view, "I mean, I'm glad the Goblins have figured out that they had been cursed, and how to cure it. The rest of it is, kind of unbelievable." He chuckled wryly, "I wouldn't believe any of it if I wasn't standing in the hallowed halls of Camelot itself. I thought the twins were pulling one over on me about Griffin's Keep as well, but I haven't had time to go confirm or dispel that theory."

"Sadly, its all true," Regulus called, making his presence known, "We've investigated throughly. It would have made a worthwhile prank though, had it been a farce."

Bill laughed, "My thoughts exactly." He turned back to Hermione and asked the one question she had been hoping to hear, "So, what do you need from me?"

"You can always count on a Weasley," Hermione smirked at Regulus. "I need your vast knowledge of modern developments in runes and safeguards. Not only for this specific set of rooms, but for any information we uncover that is deemed too dangerous." She sighed, wringing her hands in front of her, "If we just destroyed it, not only would it be lost to us, but it could always be figured out again. Maybe by someone with less than honorable intentions. We need something along the lines of a fidelus charm, mixed with a notice me not for when information related to it is thought of... more like a monkey no see, monkey no do charm."

"A think of me not?" Bill asked, "Intriguing proposition. I don't think it's been done before, but we could give it a whirl."

Regulus grimaced, "Our invented solutions could very well be just as dangerous as what they're to be applied to. Imagine someone wanting to ban information, like the muggle book burnings. Say the spell and it simply doesn't exist anymore and could never be recreated. Religions, proclamations, whole cultural traditions could simply vanish forever."

"If it's dangerous enough to need protection like that, then we would have to put it somewhere remote, say the incantation with the runes, with the instructions for the ritual itself in with the information. That would be the ultimate failsafe, even from ourselves." Hermione mused, as Bill looked on in admiration.

He hmmed agreeably. "I think I will like this little project. Your mind is terribly interesting."

"Sometimes more terrible than interesting," she snorted, looking to change the subject, "but we can talk specifics sometime later, when we've figured out just how much security we need to have. And who from."

Bill nodded, "It's always good to know all the perimeters before starting." He fiddled with the knicknacks on the table before him, "I might begin trying some ideas though, since you've got the old gears a'whirring." Sitting down he summoned a quill and some parchment, pulling a shrunken form of a well worn book from his pocket, "Yes, yes you have. Uh, if you don't need me for anything else, I may just sit here and plan for a little bit?"

"Have at it," Regulus answered, stopping Hermione from saying whatever it was she was going to say. Instead, he pulled her out to take a walk, before it was impossible to get any alone time with her.

Apparently, that time was already upon them, as two identical Weasleys, followed by a third not so matching one, were walking their way up the street. "And so it begins." Regulus stated ominously as they drew nearer.

Hermione smacked him playfully, dragging him along to meet her friends. "Fancy meeting you here!" She laughed, pulling Ginny in for a hug.

"You know you've got some strange looking Demons and a bunch of rabid acting Goblins in your Hall, right?" Fred asked, taking a bite of apple before wiping his mouth with his hand. The Weasleys never had the best table manners, but they were working in it. Some more slowly than others.

Hermione gaped. "Demons?! What in Merlin's name are you talking about?" She demanded.

Fred explained when his brother could not seem to be unable to find the words. "We didn't know what else to call them..." he said, "They're giant, copper colored, man things, towering above shaking, little, pale goblins that seem to be multiplying by the second. Either that or your hall is making Goblin corn for dinner and that's why the Demons are multiplying, while the Goblin count is diminishing rapidly."

Sharing a look, Regulus and Hermione burst into laughter. "G-G-Goblin corn?!?!" Regulus screamed in mirth. "That— is absolutely a fantastically entertaining way to describe exactly what's happening."

"Except we won't be eating Demons for dinner... or Goblin Corn for that matter..." Hermione chuckled, "Maybe with them. Since they aren't Demons, at all. They are the Goblins, remember what happened to the elves?" They nodded, "Same story, thus the—Goblin corn."

"What's Goblin corn?!" Sirius asked, sneaking up on them. Poor Hermione fell into Regulus' arms once again. She would have to keep him around, she mused, he was good at catching her before the floor could attack her.

Regulus set Hermione straight again, before wiping his tears of laughter away. "Dinner, Sirius, we are having Goblin corn for dinner. You should go ask them about it, they're in the Hall, just over there." He pointed in the direction of the Hall of the Round Table, and Sirius took off to see what all the fuss was about.

"You think he'll survive?" Ginny asked, smirking but kind of concerned. There were an awful lot of redcaps in the Hall when they managed to sneak out unnoticed.

Regulus shrugged, "He's lasted this long, I've got high hopes. If not, I've always got Kreacher. The other, other Black brother." Ginny snorted, her amusement winning out over acting civilized.

"I always knew you loved me Reggie." Kreacher announced, popping in as he usually did when his name was mentioned. "But adopting me officially now? That's new." He smirked, then made a face as if he were pondering something, "Hmm—Should I call you Daddy?"

Regulus looked green very suddenly. "Merlin's bloody ballsack, no! Never ever say that again, Kreacher!" He shivered violently, "Just no!"

Cackling, Kreacher patted him on the back, "It's ok, I know you only like it when Hermione calls you that." His face straightened and he said seriously, "It's funny though, Daisy made mention of how I'm technically a Black anyway, earlier today." Regulus looked up, and Kreacher continued, "She said that because of the ritual that bound me to your family, using my blood, I technically became part of your family. Like an adoption of sorts. It all started when she called me Kreacher Black, I chastised her at first... but when she explained her thoughts on it all, I realized it made a lot of sense." He sighed, "Although, I did tell her I'd have to speak to you before allowing myself to use the name proper."

Hermione smiled softly at the pair, "I think if he's going to use the name, he needs a proper Black first name. What's your favorite constellation Kreacher?" Regulus rolled his eyes, he hated that particular tradition, but motioned for Kreacher to answer when he noticed how hopeful the elf looked.

"Corvus." Kreacher declared solemnly, "Although, that can just be my proper name. You know, for fancy signatures and the like, since I'm pretty fond of my actual name by now." Everyone laughed at me the absurdity of the moment they were witnessing.

Regulus nodded, "Very well, I Regulus Black declare that you are now, by way of blood, magic and merit, my brother —so named Corvus Apollo Black." A brief glow surrounded Kreacher and he tackled Regulus to the ground in an elated hug. "You can get off of me any time now." Regulus groaned pitifully.

Kreacher coughed, "uh, yeah, sorry about that— brother!" He stood, pulling Regulus up with him. "That was awesome, by the way."

"Thanks?" Regulus responded, arching an eyebrow while dusting himself off. He wondered, fleetingly, what he had just done. The elf had been insufferable before, who knew how he would act now that he had the honest backing of an old pureblood house. Probably not much worse, he supposed, shrugging. Oh, he hoped not much worse. He wouldn't survive it.

But, as Hermione wrapped him in a hug, whispering sweet nothings into his ear about how good of a man he was, he found he didn't care how Kreacher acted after this act, so long as she didn't stop believing in him he could handle anything life threw at him. It was certain, he was a goner for that girl.

————

_Sometime later, at the Ministry of Magic_

—

Harry, Ron and Neville drug themselves out of the Auror Department, bone tired and feeling dirty. Something about a good, old fashioned chase and brawl left one feeling less than fantastic. Although, the memory of one wandless Lucius Malfoy sobbing about being 'as good as a beggar', in the middle of Diagon Alley made it almost worthwhile.

That is, until they realized they couldn't just go collapse into bed. Camelot awaited, and their time conscious friend. With a collective groan they straightened up, and apparated to the Hall of the Round Table, where they were greeted by being flung to the wall by some rather impressively large— "What are those things?!" Ron gasped aloud.

The 'things' glared and drew their swords, their hats dripping what appeared to be blood, creating a morbid scene as they called out words in a harsh language. One that sounded familiar, but none of the three men could place where they'd heard it before. Another 'thing' approached, the ones with the morbid headpieces bowed in reverence, before moving aside to let the newcomer pass.

When he saw who was causing the fuss, he rolled his eyes, and began speaking rapidly in the strange language. The three men fell to the floor with a resounding thud. "Sorry about that Harry." The 'thing' said, switching to English.

Harry looked startled, "Do I—I'm sorry. Do I know you?" He squinted his eyes in confusion.

Laughter bubbled out of the large man, "I forgot!" He gasped in mirth, "Oh, you must be very confused indeed. I'm Griphook, I am very sure you know me, but something marvelous happened this very day and—"

"Goblins!" Harry yelped, "This is where the Goblins went." He turned wide eyes to his companions, who did nothing but stare back at him. Quickly, Harry swiveled his attention back to the Goblin.

"Right, Goblins." Griphook confirmed, "In our true form, as revealed when we received an invitation to this place from Mrs. Granger. Quite a fortunate side affect, if I do say so myself."

Harry chuckled, "It suits you, Griphook. We just got done cleaning up Diagon Alley, where people were rioting due to Gringotts being closed, however temporary it may be." The Goblin flashed his teeth and shrugged. Harry felt his body relax slightly, as it got used to the idea that these imposing creatures most likely meant him no harm. "Speaking of Hermione, do you know where we might find her?"

"Afraid not." Griphook sighed, "We've been a bit busy deciding the fate of our kind, and our business."

"Let us know how that goes." Ron asserted, breaking his silence for the first time since his outburst. "We must have half the purebloods in Ministry holding cells at the moment."

Griphook nodded absently. Wizarding affairs were the furthest thing from his mind at the moment. Although the plight of some of his more— obnoxious customers was fairly amusing to him. "Sounds about right." He mused, "I wish you'd keep them there."

"Us too, believe me!" Harry laughed openly, waving his wand to cast a point me spell. "We will chat later, I guess. Good luck with— well, everything." And away they went.

Fortunately, they didn't have far to go, as several redheads came into view as soon as they exited the Hall. They were walking towards a tall white tower, one that Harry's wand seemed to be tugging him towards. Gathering what was left of his strength, Harry picked up the pace and ran to his girlfriend, plucking her from the ground as he reached her.

She screamed, then noticed who had picked her up. "Harry!" Ginny exclaimed crossly, "You scared me half to death!"

"It's a good thing too, I'd hate for you to be fully dead." He said smirking. Ginny sighed in response. "To the tower m'lady?" She nodded.

The twins made smooching noises, joined shortly by Ron and Neville. This made the rest of their trip only slightly uncomfortable, but they were getting used to it by now. "You lot just wait til you find girlfriends." Ginny chuckled as they reached the door, "Have you heard the saying about payback?"

Gulping, the boys followed Harry and Ginny into the tower. There they all exchanged their happenings of the day, and once Lilly, James, Remus and Tonks had arrived, the group did a tour of their new workplace. Then came the hard part, figuring out what everyone was going to do, and acclimating those that would help with research with what they knew so far. This was probably going to be a long night, for some of them at least. And with that thought, the Department of Time Magic was officially- er, unofficially open for business.

—


	38. Time-And-Time-Again

—————

**Chapter Thirty-Eight**

—

_Time And Time Again_

—————

"Tell me again," Lilly spoke, her voice full of frustration, eyes crinkled in confusion, "The blue sand does what?" She paced around behind a table in the far corner of the laboratory. Her entire being fixated on the colorful vials of sand, and the various trinkets splayed out over the tables surface.

It had been only two days since they had declared the Department of Time an unofficially official department of the Ministry of Magic. But in this time all they had done was sort people to positions, and talk about salaries and whatnot. Today was the first day they could actually begin working with the real items that Lilly had been reading about practically nonstop for the past day.

Hermione smiled encouragingly at her red headed companion, handing her a piece of paper she had just finished drafting. The ink was still a bit wet, so both women were fairly careful in the transaction. "I wrote it down." She laughed, "Bill and I are testing a new secrecy spell. I figured this was not as vital as some of the other information I've come across. Just— if it does anything weird, let me know. Preferably quickly!"

Nodding her head, as she was only halfway listening to the girl before her, Lilly returned to her pacing. Only a moment passed before she spoke again. "Have you tried mixing the sands with other types?" She asked, squinting at Hermione.

The curly haired witch pursed her lips. "No—no, I have not. I didn't see the need." She admitted, walking over to the vials. "They all do variations of the same thing. Just in different directions, as far as I've seen. I figured it would be pointless." She picked up a random cylinder, full of fine emerald green sand. "I mean if you combined forward with backward, wouldn't you think they'd simply cancel each other out?"

They both made sounds of wonder, being scientifically minded. Lilly picked up the ruby red sand, the supposed opposite of the sand in Hermione's vial. They quickly went over various actions and reactions that could occur, other than the assumed nothingness. Then, slowly, they looked at each other, identical grins appearing on their faces.

"Only one way to find out." Hermione said, shrugging as if it were inconsequential, although they both knew it may very well not be.

Placing an apple on the table before them, she measured out a tiny amount of sand, as Lilly mirrored her actions. As they were about to sprinkle them both on the fruit, Lilly had a thought. "Wait!" She gasped, "The flesh browns as it ages, if it's exposed to air. That can be our gauge as to the amount of time that passes, or otherwise."

"We need a control then." Hermione added, nodding appreciatively. She summoned a second apple from a basket by the door. "Okay on the count of three— one— two—" She intoned slowly, before finishing with the final, "three!" After which she took a bite from the firm fruit in her hand, as Lilly did the same.

Both apples now in place, they were ready for their impromptu experiment. Carefully, they sprinkled the opposing sands on the apple, precisely on the spot that Lilly had bit into it. Hermione repeated the spell she had made to activate the sand, without physical human interaction. The spell that activated the renegade prinkles would only work if the apple was eaten, and since they didn't yet know the effects of the opposing sands, that would probably have been a bad idea on principle.

Gesturing for Lilly to do the honors, Hermione took a measured step back, as the other woman reached out and tapped the Apple three times with the tip of her wand. Then she stepped back as well.

A couple of tense moments passed where nothing happened, and then— suddenly, it did. All at once the apple simply changed from its whole self, into a rotting mess. Black goo replaced crisp white flesh, down to the very core, solely in the spot where the sands had touched it.

"Well, that's... gross." Lilly laughed, suddenly very glad they didn't use themselves as guinea pigs. James would kill her if she accidentally killed herself on the first day of hands on work.

The show wasn't over yet though, they found. Both women watched in wonder as the apple began to shake. Out of the hole where the once perfect, now putrid, flesh had sat, a sprout grew before their very eyes. Soon enough, it was a two foot tall sapling. And then the magic wore out, and it's growth ceased as suddenly as it had begun.

Blinking, Hermione took several calming breaths. "What. Just. Happened?!" She exclaimed haltingly. The girls just stared at each other.

"I have no idea." Lilly breathed, "But it looked a lot like death and rebirth." She shook her head in disbelief, "I just don't... there's not a clear cut way to describe it."

Hermione pulled her wand quickly, casting a patronus to one of their newly appointed security officers. "Neville," She intoned, "Come to the laboratory, please. We seem to need herbology help." Turning back to the small plant, she studied it. It's leaves we're glossy and whole, it's trunk sturdy for such a young specimen. She was still jotting down notes when Neville came rushing in.

"I'm here, I'm here," He gasped, jogging towards them. When the apples came into view he smiled, "Woah. That's new. How'd you do that?" Coming closer to inspect the specimen, he rattled off various things he noticed, all of which were dutifully recorded by Hermione.

Lilly, on the other side of the table, explained the events that has transpired, as soon as his commentary had slowed.

"We decided to run a test on what would happen if we mixed the sands. Hermione thought they may simply cancel each other out, but we needed to be sure. We made a control," She she gestured to the second Apple, just beginning to brown in the bitten area, "Then sprinkled the sands only on the bite mark, and recited the activation spell."

"First nothing happened, then it just was suddenly rotten," Hermione took over. "Shortly after, the Apple began shaking, and then the sapling emerged. It got this far before the magic ran out, although I bet it could have grown a full tree had we used more than just a pinch of sands."

Neville nodded, calculating possibilities in his head. "I've never seen anything like it, it's like the sands killed it, in order to renew it? Technically, taking it both forward and backward in time." He clicked his tongue. "Maybe try with a live plant. If it works this way continuously, you may have just found a way to save endangered, hard to grow species— with very little effort. Mix it in with some soil, plant some seeds or what not and... poof, instant forest, fields ready to harvest, you get the idea."

Hermione looked thoughtful, while Lilly burst into a fit of laughter. "Sorry, sorry. Maybe you should get a plant to test it on, Neville. Something hard to grow, but not endangered. Or something plentiful and close, whatever you'd like— maybe both."

Chuckling, Hermione nodded her agreement, while quirking an eyebrow at the other woman, "Yes to that idea, if you wouldn't mind. Although, I'm curious as to what has you in stitches over there, Lil."

Lilly snorted anew, rolling her eyes, "Nothing, it was just a thought about the joke of what comes first- the chicken or the egg." She laughed uproariously again, "If we tried this experiment in scrambled eggs, what would happen? Would we get— an unscrambled egg back? If so, would it be in the shell or simply a mess of goo? Or, would we end up with a chicken? Maybe just a plate of rotten eggs?" Laughter filled the room.

Neville excused himself to grab some plants and seeds, while Hermione tried to consider Lilly's line of questioning carefully. It was rather a good question, despite its humorous posing. "Maybe we will try it... with some really good bubblehead charms, just in case!" She sighed, "It's really nice to have another scientific minded person around, that is also a girl."

Laughing, Lilly agreed heartily, as she transfigured a nearby cup into a planter, summoning some dirt to fill it with before carefully planting the minuscule apple tree. "While we wait, we should repeat the trial with the other Apple, then plant it like this one. We could experiment with the sands in the soil later too, to see if we could coax it to grow, or de-age."

"I suddenly feel like we're in the Garden of Eden," Hermione stated lowly, moving over to the remaining fruit and adjusting its placement, "messing with things we don't understand."

Lilly's eyebrows shot up. "I forget you're muggleborn, more often than not," She laughed, grabbing the vial of red sand, and handing the green to Hermione, "It's weird to hear a witch talk about mundane religion. Or religion at all, come to think about it."

"Isn't that strange?!" Hermione agreed, as they measured out the precise amount of sand they had used before, "It's like they believe in nothing but themselves! Which, yeah, is kind of admirable... but also kind of sad. You'd think wizards would have some kind of a belief system, or some major powerful religion. But, while they say things like 'thank the Gods' on occasion, you never hear anything about it." As they pondered this, they sprinkled the sands of time in tandem. Repeating the activating spell, and watching as the process began again.

Unbeknownst to them, Neville had returned. Arms laden with various plants and seeds, which he placed on a table to the back. He tried to organize them, somewhat, but was having difficulty as he was concentrating on both the conversation and the process happening before his eyes. He would have to talk to them, he decided, about wizarding religions. But first, he needed to try to wrap his mind around what his eyes were seeing.

He knew what they described before, but as fantastical is it sounded then, it was nothing compared to actually seeing it happen. It was— the entire life cycle, happening all at once. Right before his eyes! "That's amazing!" He exclaimed, completely in awe. Hurriedly grabbing a random pair of plants and rushing forwards. "Try this one next."

Eyes wide, Hermione gaped at Neville. "That's a Sopophorous plant," she breathed, "I thought we were starting with something a little less—"

"Rare" Lilly finished, as Hermione trailed off. She inspected the plants, which appeared to be in good condition. "Explain, please?"

Neville nodded, and rushed to speak, "I brought some other plants, but this is what I'm the most interested in finding out. After that display I just didn't think, and my hands and feet got ahead of my head." He shrugged, throwing his hands in his pockets, "But I'm not going to apologize, and I do think you should try it. I've got several of these and I'm making alright headway with growing them in the greenhouse. If it fails, I won't be upset, but if it succeeds... that would be nothing short of fantastic."

Hermione chuckled, as Lilly sighed. They moved the plants so one was between them, the other over to the side, as a control. Then they looked at each other, both puzzled. "In the soil, maybe?" Hermione suggested.

"Honestly, I'm not sure," Lilly said, pursing her lips. "That or cutting it somewhere to expose some fleshy bits."

Neville interrupted, just as Lilly summoned a knife. "Try the soil!" He exclaimed. "Don't maim the poor plant if you don't have to. It's trying to grow it's bean!"

Laughing, Hermione said, "He's right. Let's take the path of least resistance first." She measured out the sand, and stood, waiting for Lilly to do the same. Once again they sprinkled and chanted, then, collectively, they held their breath.

It took forever, it seemed. Regardless, it was a lot longer than the change that had happened to the Apple. At first it was a barely noticeable wilt to the leaves of the plant, then the bean began to wither. As it shriveled, Neville let out a high pitched whimper, as if the sight was causing him physical pain.

The desiccated husk of the Sopophorus bean hit the soil below it, with a resounding thud that sounded as if had been created by something a lot heavier than it could conceivably have been. And, as they watched, the pod simply disintegrated into the soil.

"No!" Neville shouted in anguish, "That was— I..." He sighed, "What just happened?!" He ran his hands over his face, mind racing. So busy was he in feeling the various feelings cascading through his mind and being, that he failed to notice the pot containing the shriveled plant beginning to shift. He did, however, notice when it began to shake violently.

For a moment, Neville reached out to stop it. Reacting purely on instinct. Hermione and Lilly, quickly prevented this from happening with a well placed shield charm. "Just watch, Nev." Hermione chided gently, eyes steadfastly glued to the pot that was rocking and spinning wildly.

"How does everything stay in the pot?!" Lilly wondered aloud. She didn't have time to ponder much more deeply into the matter, as almost the exact second that she pondered it to begin with, it was over. All motion had stopped. Except...

Neville gasped, hands coming up to cover his mouth, a shill noise of what one would assume to be glee emitting from his mouth. "It's growing!!!" He tittered giddily.

Only Neville could be this excited about a tiny plant emerging from a tub of soil, Hermione decided, rolling her eyes as she smiled at his antics. But emerge it did. First one sprout, then two, three, four... as if every seed that had been in the immature pod had been perfectly spaced and had sprouted as in nature.

As they watched, in varying degrees of excitement, seven perfectly formed Sopophorous plants emerged from the soil. Each growing as it greedily sucked up the magic from the sands of time. And then, about a foot tall each, the growth slowed to a crawl. Inching, higher and higher, until it simply stopped.

"I love magic!" Neville cried, whooping loudly as he threw his arms over the shoulders of Hermione and Lilly, "Fantastic show, ladies! Truly marvelous. I'm going to repot these, and then we can monitor them for signs that something may be off, as compared to the other, traditionally grown plant. But this is about three quarters of the way grown, already." He peered at the newly sprouted plants. "They even have beans sprouting! Merlin!"

Laughing quietly, Hermione grabbed a new pair of test subjects, this time some rather worn looking old seeds, and repeated the experiment with Lilly. Neville watched with rapt attention and a gleam in his eye. Hermione got the sneaking suspicion that Neville wouldn't be on security duty anymore. No, she decided, it seemed a new branch of Time Magic had been pioneered that day, and the Herbology department would need someone trained in the subject.

A commotion by the door pulled her attention away from the rapidly sprouting seeds, both the ones in the soil, and out of it. Although, as she had observed so far, the seeds in the soil were faring much better than their soil-less counterparts. As evidenced by their tangled roots and quickly wilting green bits. "Woah!" Yelled Regulus walking into the room further. He had knocked over the Apple tree saplings, not expecting the obstacle. "That's bloody amazing! Wait— is that...?" He whistled lowly, "What have you lot been up to? Please tell me it is what I think it is!"

"The creation of the Herbology Division of the Department of Time Magic?" Hermione questioned, arching an eyebrow at her wizard, "Why? Is someone a closet Herbology lover?" He gaped at her, glancing between the plants and the woman he adored.

Neville came to the rescue. "We've had numerous discussions on some of the more— rare— specimens." He informed Hermione, "Regulus is the entire reason I've got some of these plants, er, seeds— specimens. Yes, that sounds about right." He shook his head, going back to watching the formation of some of the aforementioned specimens. "And yes," Neville answered Regulus' unfinished question, "this is silphium. The lost spice of the ancients."

Regulus' draw dropped. "But how?! It's impossible to grow from seed. Entire civilizations have tried, and failed—And the few seeds I gave you, nearly half of the only remaining seeds in existence, were hundreds of years old!" He glared at the other man, "Wait. Was this a test?!"

"Yes," Neville shrugged, almost uncaringly, "But not the first one."

"The first one of seeds alone!" Hermione exclaimed, alarmed, "Neville, I said nothing too rare!"

He simply smiled at her, and shrugged again, "If it had failed, the seeds still wouldn't have been successfully grown. As Regulus just said, some of the greatest minds from some of the greatest civilizations have tried, and all of them failed." He sighed, "I could have kept them, for pure novelties sake, as a display in my office at home. As a 'wow' factor for conversations. That was their fate. To simply— exist. Full of the unfulfilled potential for life." He picked up one of the remaining seeds, staring at its heart shaped shell in contemplation, "And now, this extinct plant is, magically, not extinct anymore."

Frowning, Regulus sighed, "You're right, of course," he fingered the delicate spray of yellow flowers on the admittedly ugly, newly grown, plant. "Mild heart palpitations aside, I'm still not sure just what is going on here. However, I'm sure I need to get my hands dirty, both literally and figuratively, on this particular project."

"It's simple, kind of?" Neville began, "Not sure of the specifics, but they did a test with mixing two sands. To see how it would effect living things should an accident happen, I suspect." Hermione nodded and he continued, "They called me in when the test ended in a new plant. The unfortunate Apple saplings you ran over in your haste to enter, actually."

Neville laughed at the chagrined look on Regulus' face, "I'm not even going to ask what all that was about, for the record. But anyway, they requested samples of other plants of different types and life stages to try. And now you're up to speed with the new— wait— Herbology division? Really?!" He asked excitedly, having just comprehended the meaning behind Hermione's earlier words.

She nodded, smiling gently, "And you two are nominated to run it! Neville, you'll be the head, though. Simply because I may need Regulus for other things as well." Hermione cut of Regulus' whining before it could even start. "Unless you want to focus solely on plants?"

The dark haired man shook his head wildly, "No, no. That's fine. I have many interests, it's best not to get too tied down at this point. There's this niggling suspicion in my mind that this is only the tip of the iceberg." Looking at the newly formed silphium plants, the likes of which hadn't been seen in centuries, he smiled. "But someone better pot those bare roots, they're looking a little sad."

Quickly, Neville grabbed the plants, transferring them to a container that he had readied while waiting for the magic to start. "You know, we could put some of the green sand in the soil, just to see if it helps...recovery."

"They could simply flash forward to their dying stage." Hermione cautioned. "We may want to try that on something a little less rare. It looks like that plant—silphium?— right, well, it looks like it is a relative of common fennel. We— better yet, you, could test on that plant. If it works then try it on the more rare one. Sometimes the risks are worth the rewards, I'm not sure this is that time—yet."

Firmly put in his place, Neville had no choice but to agree. It was just so exciting! He had never felt this exhilarated before, except when he had pulled the sword of Gryffindor from the sorting hat during the final battle! It made him want to be a little reckless. But he shouldn't let himself carried away, he admitted. A shy smile found its way to his face, as he realized she had been staring at him, waiting for an answer. "You're right," He murmured, rubbing the hair on the nape of his neck, "we will go figure out... wait, where are we going to put all these plants?"

Regulus furrowed his brows, biting his lip as he thought. He sent a furative look to Hermione, only to see her waiting for his answer as well. So, this one was up to him.

They had situated headquarters near the orchard, but on the other side was a swath of open land. On the other hand, they could put a greenhouse on the roof of the tower, and keep it all technically in the building. "We need a greenhouse, I think." He states uncertainly, then shook his head as if he was coming to a decision, "We have some options. Let's go scout them out, and then we will let Hermione make the final call."

"Sounds good, although I'm sure whatever you decide will be fine. When you get back we will go over the activation spell, and I'll get you some sands to play around with. You'll have to let Bill know where to set up the wards after that though," She directed, "Unless you have a greenhouse somewhere in the tower. Maybe the roof? Although, more space may be preferable. Especially if you find yourselves getting the same kind of results we've been having."

Lilly laughed in excitement, "Oh! You boys could have a whole garden full of rare and exotic, even formerly extinct herbs and plants before the day is done! Just make sure to take notes on progress. No change, or excelled growth, slowed growth. Continued dosing with sands and their effects. Merlin, this is a rush!" Nodding, Hermione silently agreed, as Lilly finished her statement, "I can't wait for the egg-speriment."

That said, Hermione facepalmed, and hurriedly followed the boys out of the lab, calling, "On that note, I need a break!— wait up, you lot, I'm coming too."

Shrugging, Lilly went back to tinkering in the lab. Until she too decided to take a break, if only to procure some eggs for their next experiment. "What first?" She wondered aloud, "Scrambled, poached, hard boiled, raw— hmm. Decisions, decisions." Laughing, she made her way to the Dining Hall for supplies. As many as she could think of. "Best get deviled eggs too... for snacking." She decided, as her stomach growled in hunger.

————

_Diagon Alley_

_—_

Gringotts had yet to reopen after its sudden closure. The wizards were getting restless. Anxious parents camped outside of the buildings motionless doors, waiting for the moment they could gather the funds necessary to collect supplies for their children away at school. A faction of purebloods had erected a palatial tent where they were seemingly holding a never ending vigil for their lost fortunes.

Down the road, vendors had either shuttered their stores, or began accepting alternate forms of currency. Some, like the less reputable ones on Knockturn Alley, had resorted to less than proper forms of payment. A turn of events that had diverted a lot of attention from the stillness of the bank. Others, were simply bartering their wares for other goods and services.

At first, many of the purebloods had gone to other, more exclusive, wizarding banks. Other branches of Gringotts, and the like. But one by one those had shuttered their doors as well. With few remaining loyal house elves, and no knowledge of the muggle world, they were finding their current state of existence much changed.

This is how one Draco Malfoy found himself in the middle of Diagon Alley, hoping for a miracle. "I just need one more freaking Galleon, or access to my vault where I stupidly kept the more sensitive potions ingredients!" He exclaimed quietly, pounding on the door in vain.

"Mate, you know that's not going to work." Chuckled a feminine voice from behind his shoulder.

He sighed, knowing she was right, as usual. "I know Pansy." He didn't bother to turn around, "If I had any other option I wouldn't be here right now. Nobody that's open wants to barter with me. I'm completely shunned by the light families, so their businesses are out of the question. And my former 'associates' have learned that my mark is gone, and thereby have branded me a traitor. So, they're no use to me.

Running a hand through his hair, leaving it disheveled, Draco continued his monologue, "My elves are back, yes, but I believe they're on some sort of a strike. It's like they're just needy family members, with no actual purpose other than to constantly be in places you don't expect them to be!" He finally looked at her briefly, "They won't find what I need, and if I thought Mungo's had anything I could even substitute I'd have asked you already. I know that was going to be your suggestion, don't look at me that way." He flashed her a small smile.

Pansy held up her hands in mock surrender, "Okay. Okay, you win! Have you asked Snape? He's usually good for that kind of thing, if I remember correctly.

Briefly, Draco stilled. His godfather. Oh, he felt like such an idiot. It was a long shot, but he supposed it wouldn't hurt to ask. Now, the only question would be where to find him. "I wouldn't know where to look." He answered his old friend, after realizing they'd just been standing there in silence for an abnormally long time. "He's been rather elusive since his return to the world of the living."

"Ask Hermione? She's, er, close with Regulus, and those two are thick as thieves." The raven haired girl suggested with yet another shrug. "Either way, it's fairly obvious standing here is accomplishing nothing for either of us. We'd better get a move on, if we don't want any passing Aurors to think we are going to be following in your father's footsteps."

Draco laughed heartily, rolling his eyes. "Old habits die hard, I suppose." He said plainly, "But, you're probably right. Could you get ahold of Granger? She's closer to your friend than mine."

"I might be able to be persuaded." Pansy leered at the blonde man before her, "For the right price." He gulped audibly and she relented, "I'm kidding Draco. Calm down, don't get your wand in a knot. Look, I'll just send her a patronus. But you owe me a glass of butterbeer."

Nodding, he followed her dumbly through the streets of Diagon Alley, and into the familiar ambiance of the Leaky Cauldron. Once they were ensconced in a nearly private booth, and each had a cold beverage, she pulled her wand and proceeded to cast the spell that the boy who wouldn't die and his merry band of misfits were so fond of.

"I never could cast that stupid spell," Draco lamented as he watched the glowing scorpion disappear. "Thank Merlin I've got an owl or I'd be lost, I'm sure."

Pansy rolled her eyes, having heard one too many woe is me stories for the day. "I think what you meant to say is thank you Pansy, you're the best. You're welcome, by the way." She flipped her hair over her shoulder, staring at him until he deflated under her gaze.

"Yes, of course, thank you." He said, a blush staining his cheeks. His mouth was open, presumably to continue what he had been saying, but a series of pops distracted him from finishing.

Abruptly, Hermione Granger threw herself into a chair at their table. Her two shadows of the day choosing to remain standing. "For the record, I am not Severus' keeper." She began, a wry smile playing on her lips, "However, if you remember where he works you may have about as good of a guess as I do for where to look for him."

"You couldn't have just sent that little tidbit with a patronus?!" Pansy guffawed, waving at the barkeep for a round of drinks.

The smile on Hermione's face grew to a full on smirk. One that was disconcerting to see upon her face. "I most definitely could have, however, your missive provided me with an opportunity to escape for a little while."

"Oh, please, do elaborate." Draco drawled sarcastically, before taking a long gulp from his drink.

Hermione simply laughed, no longer affected by Draco's various attitudes. "As much as I'm sure you would love that... no. I'm afraid I can't." She turned to Regulus with a blinding smile, "Oh, remind me to tell Bill it worked! I literally couldn't say anything about— anything. Huh. That's scary, but in a good way. I think."

Thoroughly confused, Pansy and Draco simply watched this interaction happen, waiting until the witch returned to the conversation at hand. It didn't take long for her to swivel back around, fortunately. "Sorry! Work. Anyway, what do you need Severus for? Maybe we could help."

"You?" Draco laughed, despite the warning look Pansy shot him. "As if you have any idea about rare potions ingredients."

Three sets of eyebrows shot up in disbelief. "Nope, none at all." Hermione deadpanned, "Said the girl who always beat you in potions, in the presence of the one who always beat you in herbology, and the favored Black sibling privy to all the family knowledge on just about everything in all of ever." She glanced at her friend and her wizard, both of whom shrugged carelessly. An action that she repeated whilst staring at the Malfoy heir.

"I've missed our talks so, Granger," Pansy sighed before getting down to the nitty gritty. "Gringotts is shuttered still, and this one keeps all his 'special' herbs and trinkets in his vault. He doesn't have the correct coin to get what he needs elsewhere, and his elves are being... uncooperative, at the moment."

Hermione closed her eyes and tried to think through her response. "Quite a predicament," She said seriously, "what are you looking for?"

"I'm not sure?" Draco answered honestly, "I've been tinkering with a few different potions lately, and they're just not doing what I want them to do... so I'm trying to get my hands on any possible solutions, I'm just finding it hard with standard potion classroom ingredients."

Regulus' ears perked up at this statement. "What exactly are you attempting to create?" He questioned.

Draco looked down, feeling a blush creeping up his neck towards his pale cheeks. "It's stupid." He sighed, exhaling slowly, "I just... I took a lot of potions when I was younger," He briefly looked up to meet Hermione's eyes, "What, with following you lot, trying to prove I was a real wizard and therefore better than my brilliant muggleborn classmate, and all. Between those pursuits and quidditch I must have already ingested two lifetime supplies of the nasty slime currently in production. And it all took so long, I mean— this is MAGIC, isn't it supposed to be instantaneous or something?" He chuckled dryly.

Suddenly he stood straight, looking his companions in the eye, one at a time. "There's got to be a better way. Quicker, more effective—tastier. And Hermione's potion underscored that for me. I thought to myself that maybe, just maybe, if she can do it, so can I. And not from a place of rivalry, for the first time. She inspired me."

Looking directly at her, he repeated his statement once more with conviction, "You inspired me." He watched with no mild form of confusion, as she glanced at each of her companions and received a brief nod.

Closing her eyes, as if collecting strength, which only seemed to drag out the confusion for Draco, Hermione returned his gaze, "Then I think you'll be interested in a project we are working on. I trust you won't make me regret taking this leap of faith." She turned and addressed Pansy, "You're welcome to join us, as I feel you may be a welcome addition to our testing process. And, I have a feeling you may want out of that maze they try to confine you to over at Mungo's.

However, before we take you back with us, you must realize that all of this is of the utmost importance an, as such, maintaining a standard of secrecy is imperative. You will not be able to speak of anything you learn from or with us, except to others who are held to the same code. There are exceptions, of course, but we will discuss those after you've had a tour."

Pansy snorted in a very unladylike fashion, "Oh, darling, you had me at the thought of getting out. You're just teasing me with all the secrecy. We're Slytherins, we live for that crap."

"Seconded," Draco announced, straightening his shirt collar, "Lead the way, Granger. I'm sure we won't be disappointed."

Grabbing on to his collar, Hermione did just that, enjoying the squawk of indignation that bubbled out of his mouth in the process. She chuckled, before the darkness overtook her vision, as she briefly saw Neville hold out hand his hand to Pansy, in order to properly apparate her to Camelot.

"Bloody Hell, Granger!" Draco spat, as he tumbled to the floor upon arrival, "What was that for?"

She smiled innocently down at him, "I have not the slightest idea as to what you're talking about." Laughing silently, she added, "But if I did, I would say it was a form of Payback. I thought you were done with the Granger bit."

"Sorry, Hermione." He rolled his eyes, and rubbed his neck. "Old habits and all." Looking around, Draco registered a few things at once. He had definitely never been here before, the architecture was not something he would have forgotten. But it looked positively ancient. Very traditionally designed, but not to any recent standards he was aware of. It almost looked like some parts of wizarding Italy, on the coast. Yet, it was also decidedly not the same.

"Welcome to Camelot." Hermione answered his unasked question, when his searching eyes landed on hers. Draco's jaw promptly dropped. He heard, rather than saw, Pansy's do the same. "We will give you the official tour later, if you'd like." Hermione continued, as if nothing was out of the ordinary, "However, we are currently in the town center. It seemed less dangerous than apparating into the Hall or Headquarters itself. You never know who could be where these days."

Regulus nodded, "That's the truth if I ever heard it." He looked at Draco conspiratorially, "There're goblins in the Hall, doing goblin things. And Lilly is probably running more tests in the lab... or being chased by James, or pranked by Remus and Sirius. Who knows." He gestured for everyone to follow him, walking slowly enough that they could look around as they walked.

"Goblins in the Hall?" Pansy asked, addressing the elephant in the room. "Why are the Goblins here?"

Hermione rolled her eyes at Regulus' lack of tact, preparing to clean up his mess. "Metaphorically? Because they can be. This is/was their homeland too." She started, "Literally, they've been in the Hall because the Goblin entrance to Camelot was activated from the bank for the first time in Millennia and it had the unintended, but not unwelcome, side effect of returning them to their natural state. Like the Elves when Avalon was discovered."

"She says nonchalantly, as she pretends she had nothing to do with it." Regulus narrated from the head of the group.

Draco gulped, "So that's what happened to the elves?" He shuddered, "It's not some magical glamor they all decided to try on, to pretend they're our equals?"

Shaking her head at the stupidity of pureblood reasoning, Hermione groaned, "Yes, and no. That is what happened. They were cursed, and now they are cured. They're trying to reconcile how they have lived their lives thus far, with how they fit in now. Also, they don't have to pretend to be our equals. They are our equals. Magical beings, just of a different race."

"And that means what?" Pansy asked, voice laced with true curiosity, while Draco continued to look like he'd bit into a particularly sour lemon.

Hermione smiled at her Slytherin friend, "That means that the elves have been tied by blood and bonding ceremonies to their families. While they are elves, they are technically part of the families who employed them. Kreacher, for example, has officially been declared as Corvus Black. He's literally become like another sibling to Regulus and Sirius." She watched as Regulus bobbed his head in acknowledgment of her statement, "And he was raised with all the same, if not more, knowledge of the family magic. The elves literally could ruin their families lives if they wanted to, for all the mistreatments and wrongs done to them."

"It's like they've been adopted with a blood adoption ceremony." Pansy breathed, "Brilliant, but I can see how it could go wrong. Why haven't they said anything? It's been— forever— and this is the first I've heard of it."

Regulus, noticing that their pace was slowing, came back towards the group in time to hear that comment. He decided to take the lead in the answer. "Kreacher was afraid of mentioning it. We were the only family he ever truly knew. I think he was afraid of us turning him away, or mocking him for even suggesting such a thing. That's probably where the other elves are at. Or maybe they're still trying to puzzle it all out."

Unbeknownst to them, Kreacher had been listening to this exchange since his name was mentioned the first time. "Draco, Miss. Parkinson." He greeted suddenly, deciding he would rather be the one to answer questions about himself and his predicament. "You rang, Hermione, Reg. Or did you forget that handy little side effect of speaking my name aloud?"

"Us? Never." Hermione deadpanned, grinning from ear to ear. "Do you agree with our assessment of the situation?"

The elf flashed his teeth, "Me? Never." He mimicked mockingly, before shaking his head. "Honestly? He's not wrong. Since I was cured, I've been spending a lot of time in Avalon. Learning who I am, who we were as a race in the past. I had no idea what it was to be an elf. It was a lot to wrap my mind around." He sighed, trying to decide how to continue his explanation internally before just going for it. "What we've known was a lie. Who we've been was a lie. Who we are now, the way we think now that our minds aren't solely dedicated to the whims of witches and wizards is so— completely different. I had to find an internal balance, then try and figure out a new dynamic to fit into with my family. Only then could I have the actual conversation with my family about all of it."

Draco perked up, "I could finally have siblings?!" He exclaimed, uttering the single most unexpected thing anyone could think of. And then he sighed dejectedly, "My Dad is going to have a fit. He loves ordering people around. Half my life I thought I was a house elf. Simply because he spoke to me in the same tone he used with them." He laughed, "I actually thought I was going to have to move into their quarters when I was old enough." Kreacher laughed at the thought of the spoiled pureblood entertaining that idea.

Hermione, however, beat him to a response. "Maybe you'll just have to show your father what acceptance looks like. Just look at how far you've come. Just, mention to your elves that you won't turn your backs on them, even if your father does." Draco nodded, beginning to follow Regulus again.

They were getting closer and closer to headquarters with every step, and conversation was beginning to dwindle. Each witch, wizard or elf was caught up in their own thoughts. In a moment, the building was before them, and Hermione made her way to the front of the group. "Okay, this is where the enchantments kick in, once you pass through these doors there is no going back." She warned, opening said door and entering into the Headquarters of the Department of Time Magic. As everyone followed her, and the door squeaked shut, she announced, "Welcome to the Department of Time Magic, an unofficially official branch of the Ministry of Magic."

For the hundredth time since they arrived, Draco found himself speechless again. He felt like he was dreaming. "What is this place?" He murmured, rephrasing immediately, "I mean, you said what it is... but, what do you do here?"

Pansy nodded, wondering the same thing. Looking around it just appeared that they had entered a rather lavish foyer. Which was the entire purpose of this floor, as an entrance. To make people believe that it was simply business as usual, should they wander in unaware.

"This is the entrance hall. On this level there are various security rooms, and private rooms for meetings. Up the stairs, if you'll follow me, we have our research room... pretty much a library. Any of the books we are using for research find their homes there." They briefly walked up the stairs and passed the research room, slowly enough that Draco and Pansy could see that it was truly just a nice library.

Reaching the third floor, they entered what appeared to be a laboratory. A fact that was confirmed when Hermione declared, "Welcome to the laboratory, where we study time related magic."

The first thing that caught Draco's eye were the various tubes full of glistening, multicolored sand. One tube in particular looked kind of familiar. "Is that—?"

"The sands of time, yes." Hermione smiled kindly, "I figured out how to multiply them, and manipulate them. Which is how the other colored sands came to be." She gave him a moment to digest this, while turning to Pansy to take stock of her reaction.

The Slytherin girl looked beyond impressed. But she was too busy looking around to say anything.

Draco on the other hand, was busy talking to himself. Wondering aloud what all the different colors did, the possible applications, and then he saw them. "Wait...Are those silphium plants? Those are extinct! How did you— where did you— did you go back in time?!" He spluttered.

Hermione couldn't help it, she burst into laughter. "We did not go back in time." She declared. "That would require going back hundreds of years, and we just aren't there yet. But Regulus did happen to have a few seeds. We just gave them a little nudge ahead."

Gobstruck, Draco waited for her to continue her explanation. "Lilly and I tested a theory, meant to be proving the safety of mixing sands together. The unexpected effect was making a whole apple both rot and grow into a new Apple tree simultaneously. So, we asked Neville for some further living specimens to test."

Neville preened, "She appointed me head of the Herbology Division, which we just created this morning." He sobered, "Reg and I still have to figure out where we are going to put the greenhouse. But we plan on having plenty of plants going by the end of the day. Rare and useful ones too!" He high fived Regulus as they departed to do just that.

"So, let me get this straight. You are bringing extinct plants back from the dead? With magic sand?" Draco drawled, "I'm interested, please do continue."

Pansy laughed, "Yes, please. This is way better than Mungo's already. The view out these windows alone is amazing. What's upstairs?" She asked, gesturing behind her.

"Owlery," Lilly answered, coming up the stairs with a tray full of snack foods, "I'm Lilly, by the way." Hermione rushed to help the redhead, noting the way some of the items were balancing precariously. If they were to fall, well, she would rather avoid that scenario all together.

"Lilly! What is all this?!" Hermione chuckled, spreading out the various items on the table before her.

Lilly had the decency to blush. "Well, I wanted to test the— Wait, is it safe to talk?"

Rolling her eyes in exasperation Hermione gasped, "Oh, no! How could I have completely forgotten! Kidding... yes it's safe to talk, we put up the safeguards this morning, remember? Plus, I believe Draco and Pansy to be trustworthy— despite their Slytherin nature."

Draco moved to protest, but was swiftly elbowed by Pansy, who whispered, "Let it go, Drake. She's just having you on." To which Hermione simply stuck her tongue out at the blonde. Unexpectedly, Draco laughed, albeit quietly.

"Oh, okay then. Nice to meet you Draco, Pansy. Anyway, I wanted to run the test on some items that came from other living things, and I was hungry. So, between those two themes— well, we can eat what we don't test, or we can test what we don't eat. Maybe the deviled eggs will give us chickens, maybe the meat slices will give us pigs, maybe the crackers will give us wheat and... whatever else. Who knows. Wait, we will know— as soon as we test it out!" Monologue coming to an end, she stuffed an egg into her mouth and stared expectantly at Hermione.

Hermione just stared back blankly, deadpanning, "Yeah, I'm not doing that." At Lilly's deflated look she rephrased, "I'm not shoving an egg into my mouth, but we can do the tests. Either these two will be blown away, or severely under impressed. Only one way to find out."

Clapping her hands together, Lilly placed a small pile of scrambled eggs on the table. "One ingredient." She explained to anyone that cared. Grabbing a pinch of green sand, she waited for Hermione to grab her own. "Ready?" She asked everyone in the room. Receiving nods in the affirmative she began the countdown. "Three... two... one... now!"

This time, the reaction was different. Maybe because the food was cooked, and therefore no longer living. Maybe because there were more things to undo or redo. Or because it was an animal product instead of a plant. But there was no rotting, thankfully. The egg simply, changed. First it became uncooked, then it became unbroken. It's shell rebuilt piece by piece until it was while once more. And then it simply... poofed.

There really is no good way to explain it. It wasn't quite a puff of smoke, nor an explosion of feathers. It wasn't mist, or fog. It was like all of these things at once, and the accompanying smell... it smelled, well like life itself. Indescribable but nonetheless distinctive.

As the cloud of whatever it was vanished the egg could be seen rocking, back and forth. Almost vibrating from within, before it suddenly sprouted feathers, and legs and the shell simply vanished.

They watched as the egg became a chick, growing by the second, until it was fully feathered. And then, it grew some more. And more, becoming a hen. A hen which promptly laid another fully formed egg.

"Woah." Draco gasped, otherwise at a loss for words.

Hermione nodded, "Magical enough for you?" He simply nodded.

"I'm in." Pansy declared, "I know you didn't ask, but I'm telling you. Whatever this is, whatever you're doing. It's... so much bigger than anything I could have dreamed to do in life. And I'm watching it with my own eyes." She cleared her throat, "Uh, I mean, let's make history?"

Tugging the unsure looking girl into a hug, Hermione reassured her, "Pansy, If I didn't think you would want to help, I wouldn't have asked you to join us."

"Right, I knew that." Pansy backtracked, inspecting her nails carelessly. Lilly chuckled at the girl, who reminded her a lot of her older sister Petunia. They both had a strange mix of over confidence mixed with insecurity.

Draco on the other hand was still trying to find the right words. "So, you deal with time magic. Like using these sands to achieve other needs and improving things that already exist? Such as potions?" He prompted.

"Untested so far, but definitely in the plans." Hermione confirmed. "We want to see how they react with all sorts of things first. So we can be prepared for any dangers we may come across."

Draco nodded, "Makes sense. Can I help my cousin and Longbottom— er, Neville. The plants look interesting, and I probably have some specimens they would like to have. Especially if one of the Goblins you may or may not have in that Hall of yours can get me into my vault." He batted his eyelashes pleadingly.

Rolling her eyes, Hermione conceded to his point. "I can see what I can do, but the Goblins don't know about my research yet so we may have to be creative with our approach there." She sent Pansy a long suffering look. "Why don't you go find the boys and see what they're into. When you all are ready for plants, we will go see if we can find you some Goblin-corn."

He looked taken aback. "More weird food?" He asked with a frown. Draco Malfoy wasn't used to not understanding things. This week alone had been enough to throw him off balance, but today's events only worsened the feeling. He had decided quite early on that he didn't like it.

Lilly and Hermione laughed heartily. "Oh, you'll get it when you see it. Don't worry." Lilly assured him, as Hermione continued laughing. The redhead, not having grown up with the self assured blonde, didn't get the same feeling of satisfaction and immense amusement from his current state of existence, as Hermione was having.

"You can stop laughing now!" Draco snapped, becoming irate. This, however, only served to make her laugh harder. He scoffed, "Whatever Grange—ermione. Hermione." He corrected himself at her hard look. "I'm just going to go find— yeah, later." He quickly descended the stairs, footsteps slowly fading away the further he went, until they stopped altogether.

Pansy, stoic as ever, arched a perfectly shaped brow. "Well, that was amusing." She stated simply. "I assume I will have to wait and see as well. So, that just leaves the question of what is next... oh, and the one about what to do with the formerly scrambled egg."

"Good questions." Hermione replied, smirking at her Slytherin friend. "I bet Galahad will know what to do with the chicken. He's an animal guy, I think."

Lilly nodded, casting a patronus to the elf in question. "You know, I never understood how neither he, nor Daisy, pop up when they're mentioned. That other fellow seems to do so frequently."

"Galahad is not tied to a family, well, other than his own. Daisy is the same. Maybe they know when they're speaking of each other, and the context of the speech. Since they're family." Hermione suggested, now questioning the same thing. "I think 'the other fellow' just likes to scare us. Although if someone outside of the family or close friends said his name he would probably not pop up."

Galahad's voice broke through her musing. "My ears are burning." He called, his voice ringing clearly through the room although he had not appeared yet. Slowly he appeared, feet first, as he descended the stairs from the owlery. "You know, Lady Potter, you only had to call up the stairs." He teased.

Blushing crimson, Lilly studied the floor intently. "I had no idea you were up there." She admitted, "Otherwise I would have."

"All teasing aside, I'm here now. What do you require of me ladies— oh, we have a guest!" He exclaimed, beaming suavely, "And who might you be, fair maiden?"

Pansy felt a strange tingling feeling overtake her. She quickly fought it down, erecting an unaffected air to cover her 'feelings'. She sniffed, "I am Pansy, Pansy Parkinson. And you are—?"

"Charmed," Galahad responded instantaneously. He even had the gall to wink. Someone, probably Sirius, had to be feeding him tips on how to romance the ladies. With as thick as he was laying it on, there was really no alternative source— unless it was Ron, who was completely hopeless at that subject.

Galahad bowed deeply, proclaiming, "I am Sir Galahad, Knight of the Round Table." He pressed a feather light kiss to Pansy's knuckles.

Having enough of this particularly sickening display, Hermione interrupted post haste. "If you're quite done, Galahad. We have a— task. For you." She shook her head, as if trying to chase out the sights that had been assaulting her vision since he entered the room. "In our testing, we have created... well, that." She gestured to the table.

"A chicken?" He asked, laughing gently. "I hate to be the bearer of bad news, but those have existed for some time your Highness." Mockingly, Galahad bowed, waiting for a true explanation for the request of his presence.

His joke was well received. Hermione smiled, Pansy snorted, and Lilly looked fairly embarrassed, although she also was smiling gently. "We know chickens are nothing new... well, unless you discount the fact that we just disproved Gamp's law— or at the least circumvented it."

Hermione nodded along with the readheads words, jumping in to add her two cents. "We need someone to look after this chicken, and you seem to be very animal friendly as of late. But, if you're not up to the task, perhaps you can point us towards someone who is?"

Eyes blown wide, a smile spread slowly across Galahad's face. "Am I to expect this chicken to be the only resident in my care? Should I accept this offer, that is." He asked carefully.

Looking between themselves, Hermione and Lilly held a silent conversation. "Probably not." Lilly said slowly. "Regulus and Neville are making a greenhouse for the plants created using the sands. Maybe you should do the same for the animals?"

"I would be more than willing to assist!" Pansy declared, loudly. She blushed violently afterwards, clapping her hands over her mouth. "If you want." She murmured between her fingers, causing the words to come out slightly muffled.

Another glance was exchanged between Hermione and Lilly. They wondered, independently, if they were aware that Galahad was not only an elven fairy, but also from a completely different time. Surely she could figure all that out in time though.

Galahad appeared to be weighing his words carefully, as if he were afraid to say something wrong. "I would be most honored for the assistance Lady Pansy." He began, "However, I fear we would need more than just the two of us. If there were to be more of these experiments carried out."

Gasping, Hermione had an idea. "He's right! Because there undoubtedly would be. Of various types. I don't condone testing on live animals though, so someone with magizoological experience would be necessary. And, preferably someone with samples of some of the more rare species." She tapped her forehead as she was thinking. Pacing along the floor as if mapping out the whole extent of the field forming before their eyes.

"Lovegood." Pansy said decisively, "There's only one witch with that kind of knowledge that's any type of trustworthy. It would have to be Luna. And, by extension Rolf— since they keep no secrets in their marriage. Plus, he's Scamander stock, practically born for this line of work."

Hermione hmmed, Pansy having expressed her thoughts quite succinctly. "I agree with your reasoning. And your chosen co-workers." She sighed, "I'm just trying to think of the proper placement for this area of research. It would be cruel to keep animals caged up inside all the time."

"I have an idea." Galahad stated calmly, "It's been some time, but there was a managerie on the island. Where was it, where was it?" He ran a hand through his long hair, while sifting through his mind for the exact location of the place he was thinking of. "Oh, how could I forget!?"

Quickly, he made his way to the nearest window, facing the deep azure sea. "There. It has to be there." He pointed to a swath of the clear water, " But where is it?"

Hermione looked puzzled, "What was there, exactly?"

"An island." Galahad explained, furrowing his brow. "There was a mage in charge of keeping it afloat... I remember that much. It must have sunk, by now. Maybe your Weasley cursebreaker could help us figure out how to make it resurface." Hermione nodded, it wasn't a bad idea.

Pansy laughed, "Well, it sounds like we have a plan then. Unsink a sunken island, make it habitable for animals. Contact Luna and Rolf, we will get a move on on this." She moved to leave the room, before realizing she had no idea where she was going. "Alright, you'll have to take the lead, Galahad. I've no idea where anything is."

"We really need to get to work on those maps," Lilly sighed, "Unfortunately it's in the hands of the Marauders... James, Sirius and Remus, that is."

Pansy groaned, "Good luck with that. Remus is probably okay, but Sirius— Yes, I've met him, he's a bit hopeless." Noting Galahad had taken off towards the stairs, she hurried to keep up with him.

"If you need us, we will be by the dragon enclosure. I believe the two were linked," Galahad called over his shoulder, "Or one of those strange glowing messages, since you lot are so fond of them."

Lilly blushed again, listening to the fading sounds of their footsteps. Until a cluck broke her train of thought. "Galahad!" She called, hoping he could still hear her, "You forgot the..." The footsteps could no longer be heard. "Chicken." She sighed, as she cast a spell to make a temporary enclosure for the animal, who was happy to be off the table.

"I should have seen that coming," Hermione admitted, laughing. They resumed testing in silence, sure to take notes of the resulting plants and/or animals from Lilly's random pile of snack food. All in all, it was an unexpectedly productive day, culminating in not only one, but two new divisions of the Department of Time Magic.

The division of Herbology, headed by Neville in the new greenhouse, was ultimately decided to be located between the pre-existing orchard and the ocean. That specific area of ocean being where the new Division of Wildlife was to be located, once they finished drying out the island that Bill had helped Pansy and Galahad raise from its watery slumber.

When the sun set over the weary occupants of Camelot, they disbanded in staggered groups. Some paired off, to go out, others merely apparated straight home to collapse in bed. In the end, only Galahad remained on the cliff overlooking the ocean, reminiscing over old times— and for once, hopeful of what the future may hold for him.

————

_Malfoy Manor, the Dining Hall_

_—_

Draco strode into the room, slower than usual due to his exhaustion. Seated at one end of the comically large table was his father, nursing a bowl of what appeared to be soup. His mother daintily pecked away at a salad on the other end. Glancing between them, wishing the table were smaller, or that they'd sit close to each other for once, Draco chose a chair towards the middle of the table and sunk into its opulent comfort.

"Bumbleforth?" He called hesitantly, wondering if his elf would even bother to show up. With what he had learned about the elves that day, he almost regretted his naming habits of those in his employ. Almost. What he did regret, however, was that his favorite elf, Dobby, was not among them anymore.

It was with this thought on his mind that the slender, blonde elf found him. "Sir? You called?" The elf spoke softly, as to not startle the Malfoy heir.

Draco shook his head, "Yes, yes. Thank you, Bumbleforth." He murmured, smiling gently at the elf. "Two things. One, may I have some supper? Anything would be lovely, it's been a very long day. And two, I would like to request a meeting with you and your brethren at your earliest convenience."

He wasn't sure who gasped first, or the loudest. His father, or the elf. Both looked equally shocked. The elf stuttered a "yes Master Draco, of course sir. Right away sir." And sped out of the room, careful to keep his eyes down when passing the elder Malfoy.

"What was all that about?" Asked Narcissa, dabbing her mouth daintily with a pristine white napkin. Her eyes bore into those of her son, as if she were trying to read his mind.

Draco shook his head, "I was made aware of a few things today, namely the reason behind the elves changed appearance and the one behind their recent apprehension. Their standoffishness should have been expected, given their treatment in the past by some members of this household."

"Be careful, son." Lucius Malfoy hissed scathingly, "Some members of this household are sitting before you, and control vast amounts of things that could affect the level of comfort you enjoy in life."

Narcissa sent a pointed glare at her husband. "Lucius, let the boy speak." She chided, placing her napkin in her lap and gesturing for her son to continue.

"Right, well, I kind of want to speak to them first about all the details. Oddly." Draco stated, gulping under his father's continued glare, "However, what you need to know is that a curse was laid on the elven race long ago, turning them into the twisted, subservient creatures we knew. The curse has been reversed, the elves have been healed; mind, body, and otherwise. They, apparently, have been learning about their true selves and what it means to be elves."

"And?" Lucius prompted, feeling his anger rise. How dare someone mess with his property. How dare they change the subservient beasts into these... rebellious teenagers! Who would dare? Lucious gasped, throwing his napkin to the ground, "It was that potter Brat wasn't it?!"

Draco shook his head. "No, it was no person that you've ever met, nor heard of. It was one of the two remaining true elves in existence. And it had nothing to do with you, father— I know what you're thinking. It was simply about saving their race, they thought they were the only ones of their kind left!"

"I didn't raise you to be such a— bleeding heart, Draco!" Lucius mocked, standing briskly from his spot at the table. "I will figure out what they did, and turn them back... after I hunt down those responsible for this mess! Our Lord would be so disappointed."

Draco scoffed, "Your Lord was a fool, and now he's worm food. That lunatic tore this family apart, almost ruined us— oh, not to mention the war, and nearly dying, and all that rot. On top of that all, you were worshiping a halfblood, a destitute halfblood with delusions of grandeur, no less." Lucius fled the room, white with fury, no doubt to enact some deranged form of revenge upon someone or something unsuspecting. "Good riddance." Draco huffed as his father's form faded from view.

"You shouldn't have taken it that far, Draco." Narcissa sighed, watching as Bumbleforth entered the room with a plate of roast chicken and vegetables. "I would like to hear the rest of what you have to say." She declared quietly, before turning her gaze towards the quivering elf standing beside her only son, "May I stay for your meeting?" A brief nod was the only answer she received, but she smiled nonetheless.

Within the span of a few minutes, the hall filled with elves, each taking a seat at the table where they sat quietly, anticipation clear on their faces. When the last of them had trickled in, Draco drew in a deep breath, and began to speak. "Thank you for coming. I met with some interesting people today, in my unsuccessful quest to get into Gringotts." He paused, trying to puzzle out where he was going with this talk. "I guess what it comes down to is that I know of the wrong you suffered as a people, and the reason you are so changed. I am glad you are all well, and whole. I am also aware that you may be confused."

Looking from face to face, among the bakers dozen of them, he caught a series of nods and other acknowledgments. Steadfastly, Draco continued his uncharacteristically compassionate speech, "Whether it be confusion related to your place in this family, this household, this world, etc. I would like to help you. I am aware of the rituals bonding you to our family, and what they would constitute among other wizards." At this, he heard his mother gasp. He didn't dare to look up. Instead, he chose to continue. "I do not know how my father will react to this reality, I do not claim to be the same as him, or even to understand him. I fear it may not be a positive event regardless. However, I myself don't know many of you well, but I would be more than willing to get to know you. To consider you friends, family, whatever you would like. You've taken care of me like family does for the entirety of my existence. I owe you at least that much."

"Draco!" Narcissa gasped, "What are you saying? What are you implying? That— they— these elves—" She didn't look angry, he noticed, just confused.

Draco stood and walked to his mother, "Mum, when these elves were brought into our household, it was through family magic, blood magic. Binding magic. They are tied to our magic, and our magic is tied to theirs. For all intents and purposes they were adopted into this family." He studied her face before continuing, "Before, they didn't have any wishes or hopes other than to see our wishes or wants fulfilled. They had limited freedom of thought, little personality. But now they are freethinking, they are whole. They could be great allies, friends—"

"Children?!" Narcissa cried, tears pooling in her eyes. "You know I always wanted more children." She surveyed the faces in the room in a new light, all but sobbing silently. "Oh, if only they could forgive me my transgressions! I've been a terrible mother to you, Draco— but I've been a terrible person in general to them."

Bumbleforth broke the tense silence, hesitantly, "M'am, If I may." He gulped before speaking again, as she nodded her approval for his input, "You may not have spoken to us the nicest, but you were never cruel to us like your husband. Also, we have seen you at your lowest lows, and your highest highs. We understand your humanity, and your struggles. Your hope for forgiveness itself is the reason we must forgive you."

Narcissa Malfoy was generally a cold person. Stoic, and unfeeling. As she sat in her very own dining hall, listening to her son and her elves speaking to her, about her, around her, her facade had no choice but to crumble. She felt the emotions sliding across her face, unprompted but not in the least unwelcome. For Narcissa Malfoy realized, quite suddenly, she was surrounded by family. And she liked it.

As such, by the end of this most recent impassioned, albeit nervous, speech Mrs. Malfoy had burst into uncontrollable tears. All the anger and the helplessness from the war sprung to mind, knowing that these people, these elves and her own most cherished son, had been there with her, had indeed made her feel less alone in the moment. But she had never truly dealt with the emotions she had tucked away back then, and they were all coming out now.

Once again the very same people surrounded her, offering her comfort and familiarity. Once again a certain someone was not around. A certain someone that was currently holed up in his office, with a nearly empty bottle of fire whisky, furiously scribbling away on a piece of parchment.

Unfortunately, that certain someone had a bit too much to drink before putting quill to paper, and therefore his missive made absolutely no sense upon its receipt at the home of his closest confidants. A fact that he wouldn't come to find out until he woke up later the next day to a pounding headache, and no recollection of anything that happened after lunch the day prior. What a pity.

————


	39. Topsy-Turvy

————

**Chapter Thirty-Nine**

—

_Topsy Turvy_

————

Lucius Malfoy was confused. Very confused. Also, his head hurt terribly. About the same time he realized this fact, he realized that the noises he had been hearing for the past hour had not been the beating of his heart in his ears. They were coming from somewhere distant, which meant they had to be louder yet outside of his— office?

Briefly, he wondered how he had managed to fall asleep in this room in particular. However the annoyed screeching of an owl, a noise that set his head to pounding even harder, interrupted his musing. Collecting the missive from the irked birds leg, he briefly scanned it and huffed. Some people wrote entirely too much.

"'Hope this letter finds you well', blah blah, yadda yadda. 'Couldn't decipher the code on your last note, must have been a spirited evening.' Get to the point Nott!" He whispered, rolling his eyes as he continued reading, "'If there is something you need, please do not hesitate to come to me. If everything is alright, don't feel you need to respond. Unfortunately the ministry has been bugging me since our previous altercation.' Ah, I see. Nervous bugger thinks he's being watched. Visit him if I need something, otherwise don't write anything that shouldn't be seen by the ministry. Got it. I assume the rest is just as— pointless"

Lucius sighed, tossing the letter into the rubbish bin and setting it alight with a flick of his wand. "I don't even remember writing Nott..." He shrugged, figuring the subject would come to mind once he could think clearly again. On this vein of thought, he dug through a drawer of his desk, pulling out a vial and greedily slurping it down.

"And now—" He declared, once the fog had cleared and the pain melted away, "I will see what all the ruckus is about!" Striding briskly to the door, he flung it open. Turns out, he didn't have to go far at all to find that the 'ruckus' wasn't all that was going on. Lucius didn't have a clue what had happened, but his house... didn't look a thing like his house anymore.

He gulped, a foreboding feeling making its way through his body. Hesitantly heading through the halls, Lucius sighed once more, "This may be a long day."

The floors were different, he noticed, the walls, the tapestries. Even the windows were different. "What is going on?" He wondered, admiring the lavish atmosphere created by this— unexpected redecoration. The only indication that this was not simply one of his wives fits of fancy was that he saw elves seemingly everywhere... dressed in finery, as they waved their hands in the air, enacting the changes before his very eyes.

Lucius rubbed his eyes, too dazed to comment aloud, and followed the main source of the commotion. It seemed that it was coming from the dining hall, and something in his mind screamed at him that there was something he was forgetting. Unfortunately, his mind didn't give him any clues as to what that something was.

As he entered the room, through a new set of delicately glass paneled, wrought iron doors, he was forced to consider the possibility that he may still be asleep, and therefore caught in a dream.

The dining table was piled with all manner of lavish foods, brunch items as it were. A string quartet was playing, or rather the instruments suspended in the air were emitting a lovely tune. Elves lounged at the table, munching daintily on fruit, others were speaking excitedly with Narcissa, who had the most brilliant smile on her face.

"I have got to be dreaming!" He exclaimed loudly, slumping into the nearest chair. No one even glanced in his direction. Unthinkingly, he loaded himself a plate and began to eat. At least he wouldn't go hungry in this dream.

As he watched, the elves speaking with Narcissa began to wave their arms grandly, causing a miniature chandelier to appear from a pile of raw materials. It grew in size, and in intricacy before his eyes. Before they levitated it to the ceiling, to replace the one that was lost during the war, it resembled the new doors that he had passed on his way into the room.

Matching sconces soon lined the walls, new paint sprung into place, the flooring changed under his feet. The table turned, along with the chairs, shrinking as it went, and taking Lucius along for the ride.

Narcissa clapped her hands in glee, "Yes, yes! That's perfect! Now we just need a piano, there! In that corner. And some greenery, to give the room some life!" This was a side of his wife he hadn't seen in— well, quite some time. He had missed her open displays of happiness, he realized.

Lucius, suddenly weary, stood from the table, and walked from the room. He wished she would look at him with that look in her eyes again. But, first, he had to wake up. Maybe, he thought, that would happen if he went to sleep in this dream. He sure hoped so.

————

_Meanwhile in Camelot_

—

Draco Malfoy had awoken that morning, feeling more hopeful than he had in ages. His little chat with his mother and their house elves was enlightening, and he saw firsthand the effects that true forgiveness could have upon a person. It was... he wasn't quite sure if there was truly a word to accurately describing, but it was life changing. As soon as he had stepped from his room, he noticed that his mother had experienced the same revelations and was embracing them whole heartedly.

She had announced a complete renovation to their house, to make it feel like a new place. One less dark and oppressive, where they could all start with a fresh slate. His father included, should he choose to be a part of this renewal of life. Because that's exactly what it felt like.

The hope in the air had been palpable, and Draco carried it with him as he made his way to the Department of Time, ruminating as he walked into his newest home outside of home. Yes, things were looking up, he decided with an air of finality. As evidenced by the new job, new associates- hopefully friends, and now Draco had found a new outlook on life itself.

"Today is going to be a great day!" He exclaimed, gingerly tossing his things onto a greenhouse table.

Neville and Regulus swiveled around so fast it was nearly comical, their jaws hung nearly to the floor, making the scene all the more cartoonish.

"You think he's been potioned?" Neville asked in a stage whisper, casting a sideways look at Regulus.

Regulus squinted, looking for any external cues that could tell him more about the situation. He frowned, "I was thinking he may be drunk, but I recognize the look on his face."

Draco chortled, attempting to glare at the two men, unfortunately it became apparent quickly that glares aren't very effective with permagrin. "I can hear you, you know."

"Oh we know." Regulus answered, smirking. "Has someone made the final leap from the dark side? Or are you really a house elf that's realized they're part of the family. I've only seen that look two times, so I admit there may be other options, but that's all I've got at the moment."

Draco's eyes widened, "I am not a house elf!" He exclaimed, "But I suppose both of your examples are close to the truth. I had a meeting with my elves, and my mother. It went well. She's currently carrying out a massive renovation. Father doesn't know yet."

"Oh," stuttered Regulus, trying to imagine how Lucius would react to, well, any changes at all. "That will either be very funny— or very, very bad."

Draco shrugged, unconcerned. "I hope it's the first. You know what happens to wizards who don't keep their oaths in a blood rite, right?"

"Someone is going to tell him that's what's going on, aren't they?" Neville gasped. He was far from a fan of Lucius Malfoy, but no wizard deserves to be caught unaware when their magic— or life is at stake.

Smirking Draco shook his head, "Nope!" He flashed a grin at the shocked boy, before explaining. "The Malfoy family values magic, and it's members. Should they request acknowledgement as members of the family and he declines in a way that violates the rite, he would be expelled from any Malfoy properties, and the role of Lord Malfoy would pass to me. So that I may rectify the wrong, or if requested negate the blood rite and free everyone from their roles in it."

Regulus nodded, that was fairly similar to the workings of the Black family Rites. Somehow the traditionally Light families had harsher repercussions on their blood rites. Probably because they were only used in extreme circumstances. "Nev, our families are dark. It doesn't make us mindless killing machines. It means we traditionally have used magic that is considered dark and could therefore be dangerous if used in the wrong ways."

"Somewhere along the line, it became synonymous with being evil. Unfortunately, sometimes, if people think you're evil you end up living up to that expectation, because why not?" Draco added to Regulus' explanation. "For instance, cast a wind charm."

Neville shot Draco a questioning look, while Regulus nodded encouragingly. Wondering where this exercise was going, Neville did as asked.

"It's easy right? Harmless?" Draco questioned. Neville agreed wordlessly. "Okay, now turn the spell on Regulus."

Hesitantly, the Longbottom Heir did what was requested of him. Watching in shock as Regulus began gasping for breath. Quickly, Neville realized that the harmless, easy spell, was in effect suffocating his friend by making it impossible to take a breath. Ending the spell, he watched Regulus regain his composure.

"That, was a light magic spell." Regulus gasped, "But it can be just as dangerous as a dark magic spell for asphyxiation. Yes, maybe the spell our families would use would be more straight to the point in that instance, but just because a spell is light doesn't automatically make it harmless."

Draco nodded, "Magic is not light or dark. Wizards have labeled parts of it as such, but it is inherently grey."

"Until it is combined with the intent of the witch or wizard." Neville intoned, shocked. And suddenly he was having revelations of his own. "So Dumbledore was a light wizard, but he was rather... I don't want to say evil, but he kind of was."

Draco and Regulus shared an undecipherable look. Nodding sadly at their friend.

"He had the right end game, but sometimes the wrong intentions." Draco tried to smooth over the depressing turn in the conversation, "But anyway! What did I interrupt?"

Both Neville and Regulus brightened at the question. "Hermione took Regulus on a date last night." Neville mocked the dark haired man, "To an old and crumbling library."

Draco smirked, that sounded like Hermione Granger.

"But," Regulus interjected, holding up a finger to stop the comment he could see was about to spew out of Draco's mouth, "Not- specifically- for the books."

Mouth suddenly slapping shut, Draco was at a loss. That sounded nothing like the bookworm he knew and teased relentlessly.

"Surprising, I know," Regulus laughed, he had been thrown by the deviation as well. But Hermione was surprising like that. "Avalon has a library of both natural things and literature." He explained, "Including one of the most comprehensive seed libraries I've ever seen."

Regulus gestured to the table they had been standing around when Draco arrived, and Draco hurriedly moved to inspect the specimens. "Amazing." He whispered reverently.

"And then, I talked to the Goblins." Regulus added, watching in amusement as Draco's head whipped around.

His eyes widened, as he waited for a continuation to the statement Regulus just uttered. "And?" Draco prompted impatiently.

"They're going to let you in to your vault." Neville said hurriedly, knowing better than to keep a spoiled wizard waiting when his money was involved, "If what you need for your potions isn't somewhere in all this— pile."

Draco preened, "What is in my vault is the result of hundreds of years of selective breeding. Not to mention Malfoy blood, sweat and tears." He sobered then, continuing with less ego involved, "Quite honestly, I've never seen them anywhere else and I'm not even sure of their actual names, only vague recordings of possible applications. But maybe, somewhere in your pile, something will surprise me!"

"Only one way to find out." Neville said, mimicking Hermione before bursting into laughter. "Seriously though, there really is only one way to find out. Regardless, I'm sure they'll let you in. They are quite receptive to people they meet in Camelot. It's the wizarding world proper that they're trying to figure out their feelings towards."

Draco nodded gravely. Considering he had witnessed first hand the poor treatment of the Goblins, for as long as he could remember, he didn't blame them.

"Well, what are we waiting for then?" He asked, excited to dig in to this project, literally and metaphorically, "Let's see what we've got."

They exchanged nods and got to work, Regulus shaking his head at the unlabeled specimens he was provided. "Leave it to Daisy to make all this hard on me. Not that it wasn't nice of her to let me take some seeds, but... everything's a learning experience with those two. I swear, she's like the elven Hermione."

Draco shuddered, thinking that one Hermione was enough. "Who is Daisy, exactly? I seem to hear the name a lot."

"Galahad's sister," Neville shrugged, "She's in and out, but I'm sure you'll see her around eventually." He squinted at the blonde man, chuckling to him self. "You know, Draco. You kind of look like her, maybe you're related."

"Once again, I am not a house elf!" Draco shouted, irately. Then winked at the former Gryffindor, "But she must be beautiful, if she looks anything like me."

Regulus laughed openly at that, flinging a bit of dirt at his cousin's son, "Oh, you're beautiful now, Malfoy?"

Knowing better to respond to a statement like that, Draco simply wiggled his eyebrows suggestively and shook his head. Yes, this was certainly going to be interesting. And not just because of the plants, the people weren't so bad either.

————

In the lab, Hermione and Lilly were reviewing the maps that Sirius, Remus and James had just delivered to them. They were very close to the Marauders Map, but distinctly different, as the boys had been trying their hardest to impress the girls.

Running her fingers over the ornate gold cover, Hermione smiled, "They're beautiful, really. You guys outdid yourselves!" She wondered internally why they went through all the trouble, but thought it best not to offend them by asking.

Lilly, however, had no such qualms. Hands on her hips, she studied the boys before them. "They are stunning, a little too stunning— what do you want?", she asked, pursing her lips and staring expectantly.

Predictably, Remus was the first to crack. "Please, please give us a real job. Not that recreating our schoolyard mishaps wasn't fun, but... Ronald is driving us insane!"

Sirius moaned in relief, "Thank Merlin, somebody said it!" He looked to the sky dramatically, raising his hands, "If I have to hear how hungry the boy is one more time— especially, while he's sitting there, eating anything even remotely edible in sight— I'm going to go crazy!"

"And Sirius is plenty crazy already," James emphasized, sagely nodding his head. "It is pretty bad though. I don't know how you lot made it through Hogwarts with that bottomless pit. I swear he would probably eat his own clothes if he remembered he was wearing them."

Lilly and Hermione shared a long suffering look, as the boys looked on pleadingly. Rolling her eyes, Hermione sighed, "Fine. Create the perfect handheld device to be charmed for communication. Start thinking of standard spells we could mix with sands and how you want it to function. Like the two way mirrors, only closer to muggle cellphones."

She sensed the complaints coming before they even opened their mouths, and held up a finger to silence them as she continued, "If that seems too easy, finish it and move on to something like the muggle tv. Same concept, just less portable than the handheld version—for people who want to make floo calls, without ashes or a fireplace. And, also for entertainment."

The boys just stared at her, with matching stupid grins on their faces. "Bloody brilliant!" James yelled, fistpumping the air, before a look of confusion swam across his face, "— Wait, what's a cellphone? Like a phone in a jail cell?"

She should have seen that coming, Hermione realized. Even Lilly looked confused. Which shouldn't have been surprising, since none of these people were around when cellular phones became convenient, or commonplace. That and the fact that half of them were wizards with little hands on experience in the muggle world.

Pulling a small object from her pocket she tossed it to James. "Don't break it." She warned. Not that she really needed it, considering the lack of service most places she frequented. But they were expensive, and she liked the convenience of the camera and access to her favorite music on demand. "I trust that, between the three of you, you can figure out how it works."

Nodding, they left the room, passing the device between them and trying to activate it with random magical words.

"They're so going to break it." Lilly sighed tiredly.

Hermione looked dejected for a moment, before clapping her hands together, "I know. But they should be busy for a while, just messing with the phone. They are great at making you lose track of time."

Gasping, Lilly smirked at the curly haired witch, "You sneaky witch! That was your plan all along wasn't it? You don't think they'll actually do it!" She clapped Hermione on the back, as if she had accomplished some great feat in tricking one set of resident tricksters.

"If they do, they'll just be saving me some work. Those things were planned projects from the beginning." Hermione said, but then mimed being affronted, "But what are you saying about my character!?" She winked and gestured for Lilly to follow her.

Coming to a stop before the colorful sands of time, Hermione glanced at Lilly, "Now, our project is to get back to the basics."

"I'm listening." The redhead murmured.

"I didn't doubt it." Hermione said, nodding, "I want to make more time turners. Since most of them in existence were destroyed during the war. However, while we are at it, there may be some things we can improve— and we may be able to puzzle out some variations using the different types of sands."

Lilly pursed her lips, clearly thinking hard. "I wouldn't call that basic. But it does sound challenging."

"You may be correct. But it's the department of time. The time turners were practically the cornerstone object of this type of magic. At least to anyone who is not an unspeakable." Hermione said seriously, "And we will be needing Bill Weasley, after we get a handle on it all. We need to include some safeguards. As evidenced by my very own misadventures with time."

Lilly smirked, and eyed the witch knowingly, "Which you will be telling me more about, I'm sure."

A rolling of eyes was the only response, as Hermione began to work in earnest, reproducing the hourglass shaped necklace that had helped her change so many events in her life during her Hogwarts years.

Several minutes later, Lilly made a sound of annoyance. "Okay, so... truth be told... I've never even seen, much less used a time turner." She sighed, throwing her head down onto her arms. "I was trying to just do what you're doing, but I can't visualize it in my head... so it's not working right."

Not looking, she held up a necklace. The golden chain was perfect, the hourglass however... needed some work. It looked like two bubbles, smushed together, with some random, mismatched knobs on the end. Hermione glanced at the nearly finished time turner in her hands, then back at the monstrosity dangling from Lilly's outstretched fist. Speechless.

"Can't we just make a watch or something?" Lilly cried, "Did they not have those when time turners were invented, or something?" She waved her wand sharply, transfiguring the strange looking time turner into a delicate golden watch. "See, easy."

Hermione inhaled slowly. "I ...never—" She stuttered, taking another breath before trying again. "I never thought of that. I'm not sure when watches came into being in the wizarding world. They are kind of a muggle thing, even still. Except those old timey pocket watches. Mrs. Weasley has a clock, but it's not really a normal clock and it's about the only one I've seen in the entire wizarding world."

"Because everyone just uses the tempus charm." Lilly nodded knowingly. "This would literally be a 'time piece' they could be set just like any jewelry, with stones or any material. Crafted into necklaces, rings, or the standard bracelets. And they wouldn't be as conspicuous as that strange looking thing."

Hermione looked contemplative, as she twirled a bit of hair around her finger. She was not exactly that fond of change, preferring to stick to what she knew, and having schedules. This department was really challenging that side of her. She wasn't sure if it was a good or a bad thing yet. So, instead of simply shooting the idea down, Hermione nodded and magnanimously said that Lilly was right.

Setting her nearly perfect replica of her old time turner down, she summoned a pile of raw materials to create a watch of her own. "Look at me, blazing new trails." She said shakily.

"It's okay Hermione. If it doesn't work, we know the old way of doing things does. So, we have a failsafe. You literally cannot fail on this one."

Hermione sighed, "I know, I know. This is why people call me a stick in the mud. It's crazy, I know it. I'm working on it, truly. But thank you. It's a great idea." She said smiling at the other witch, who was waiting for Hermione to finish before they proceeded in their task.

Returning the smile, Lilly rolled her eyes, "You're not a stick in the mud, you're just focused on things the way you're most comfortable with them." As Hermione put the finishing touches on her watch, Lilly picked up a vial of golden sand, idly admiring it.

"There!" Hermione announced proudly, holding up the time piece so Lilly could see. "Okay, standard first then we can mess around with the 'recipe', right?" Lilly nodded curtly, preparing to mimic Hermione's every move.

Sand in place, they nervously tested the new time turners. Lilly carefully moving the dial back minutely, while both witches held their breath.

————

_Meanwhile, in the greenhouse_. 

—

A vast swath of land was blanketed in freshly born seedlings, all nestled carefully into planned rows, divided with some quickly thought out spellwork until they could determine what they were working with. It wouldn't do to get rare and ancient plants to grow, only to have them kill each other because they were planted next to a neighbor they didn't fancy. Magical plants were finicky like that.

Three dirt streaked men were working diligently, planting yet more of the greenery. The blonde one, however, was beginning to tire. Swearing loudly, he stood up from his crouched position near the ground. "Can't I just get what's in my vault, and then we can continue this... backbreaking labor?" He exclaimed, running a dirty hand through his usually pristine hair.

Exchanging a look, and a few chuckles, the other two men regarded the blonde carefully. After another agitated sigh from the Malfoy heir, Regulus spoke up. "It's been all of an hour Malfoy!," he laughed, "Should we slow down or something? Are you having trouble keeping up, or did you break a nail?— oh, and you have dirt in your hair."

Draco rolled his eyes, smirking sarcastically while casting a silent scourgify. "There. Sorry to offend your delicate sense of cleanliness, Regulus." He snarked back, "No, for the record, my nails are fine and I'm not having trouble at all. If you'd like to keep at it, then don't slow down on my account. I just—" he sighed, shoulders slumping, "I'm just anxious, I guess. Mother advised me against keeping my plants in the vault... but it was just my place that I could get away from everything."

He paused, kicking a clump of dirt before he continued airing his thoughts, "The manor is just... oppressive, full of memories of things that happened, and things I've lost. So, I made somewhere that was my own. I could have bought a house or something, I suppose. But it wasn't that I was trying to run away from my life forever... aside from the fact that I have no desire to literally be alone, so why would I do that?"

Neville elbowed Regulus and whispered, "Am I the only one getting creeped out by this impassioned speech? A Malfoy is getting sentimental!"

Regulus tittered, as the Malfoy in question glared. "I heard that, Longbottom."

Shaking his head Regulus scourgified himself and made a motion for the other two to follow. "Short recess it is then, let's go find some goblincorn." He declared tiredly, "Draco, I don't think you're alone in your feelings. My dad had whole sections of Grimmauld spelled off, completely hidden, just so he had a way to get away. It happens. But if we do this, no more crying ok?"

"I am not crying!" Draco shot back forcefully, "But I promise not to _start_ crying if we do this."

Neville followed slowly, wondering just what he had gotten himself into agreeing to this job. It was certainly not like he thought it would be. But on the bright side, he was working with things he loved, instead of the security detail he thought he would be stuck with. The people weren't to terrible either, surprisingly enough. As they made their way to the Hall of the Round Table, he realized that never in a million years did he think his life would end up like this, and also that he wouldn't change a thing.

As the doors to the hall swung open, the three men prepared themselves for anything that they may see. None more than Draco, who still wasn't sure what a goblincorn was.

He imagined some grotesque centaur like creature, half Goblin, half unicorn. What Draco didn't imagine that he would literally see an extremely large man pop up from inside a Goblin, and that is exactly what he did see. "What the—Merlin!" He turned to Regulus, a look of shock and horror on his face, "What is going on here?!"

"Goblincorn." Regulus said sagely, "It's what the twins have called it. The Goblins come in, all small and standard Goblin-like. Entering through the traditional portal on the way in is a cure to their curse, and then they just— change. _Poof_, tall, wide, huge. Like popcorn: _pop_, and there it is!"

Draco looked a little green around the gills, "Morbidly accurate." He agreed, "I get it now... wish I could un-see it, but I definitely understand. Ew." Neville nodded his agreement as one of the Goblins swiftly headed their way.

"Young mister Malfoy!" The goblin called in greeting, "Boys, good to see you again."

Regulus smiled, "You too Griphook, up for a quick trip? 'Young Malfoy' is heartsick without his beloved plants and would like to retrieve them." Draco groaned as the other men laughed heartily at his expense.

"Of course, Sir Regulus, shall we?" Griphook placated. Three heads nodded briefly, and then they were suddenly within the Malfoy vaults. "Quickly now boys, we are almost finished up in the Hall, and we would like to get back to figuring out— well, everything."

Draco wasted no time running to his trunk, which held his massive greenhouse. "Everything? Like what's going to happen to Gringotts?"

"Precisely." Griphook said seriously, a twinkle in his eye. "If you'd like you could clear out some things you may need while we make those decisions. Or all of it, just in case."

Regulus' eyes widened, "In case Gringott's never re-opens?" Griphook said nothing, instead settling on staring stony-faced at the floor.

"You heard the man," Neville said seriously, "Let's get a move on. Got any not so legal, but not exactly illegal, bottomless trunks?"

Draco knocked the side of a Sorry looking trunk, indicating that he had the same thought. "I am a Malfoy. I'm sure there are a lot of things that aren't so legal, yet aren't illegal, in here."

Together, they began tossing things into the chest, then levitating groups of objects when the things nearby were already handled. In no time flat, the room was emptied.

"Anyone else?" Griphook asked seriously. Nodding, they were each escorted to their family holdings, in turn, before they returned to Camelot with heavy loads, and heavy hearts. Only then did Griphook speak again, "I'll talk to Hermione once we get settled for the day, I'm sure the rest of you lot would appreciate the same courtesy. As we appreciate the privacy we have been afforded since our arrival here."

With a tense nod, Regulus thanked the Goblin, and the boys were on their way out of the hall once more.

"Well, Malfoy," Neville spoke when they'd made it about halfway back to the greenhouse, "You're rich again, will you be leaving us?"

Draco laughed merrily, ruffling the Gryffindor's hair, "Nice try, Longbottom. This is a much better escape than my greenhouse trunk. Company's not so bad either."

Holding out his hand, Neville shook that of his one time enemy, "Alright then, guess we're stuck with you!"

"Seems that way." Draco agreed with a wry smile, as Regulus patted him on the back. Then, suddenly, he snorted.

Wide eyed, the other two men stared at the blonde man. "Care to share?" Regulus pressed, seeing the look of pure amusement on his cousin's face.

"Who me?" Draco joked, "Kidding, I was just thinking about letting my dad worry for a while. Can you imagine. Having the whole vault in the house, and him still going stark raving mad thinking he's poor as a pauper?" At that the other two erupted in laughter again. "But enough about me, we have some work to do, don't we boys?" He asked, throwing the door to the greenhouse open, and slamming his load down on the closest workbench.

"Maybe we should have done that trip first," Neville said, whistling lowly. "It's like a completely different Malfoy." Shrugging, they copied Draco's motions and followed him back to the spot they left off.

"No rest for the wicked, eh Draco?" Regulus jeered teasingly. To which Draco only winked.

————

_In the lab_

—

Lilly sighed dejectedly. "I really thought that would work," she said, fiddling with the watch she had transfigured.

"I did too." Hermione echoed, glumly, "I just don't see why it wouldn't...it's the same concept."

Lilly nodded, they'd spent the past who knew how long trying to figure out where they went wrong. But nothing was working. As two females that were used to things just magically happening for them, it was a rather new scenario. Neither of them was taking it well.

"I guess we should just go back to the original plan." Hermione said, shrugging. I mean, I don't see what the turners have that the watches don't...we just turned the rings to dials...Hours, minutes..." She gasped, "How could I be so stupid?!"

Lilly raised her eyebrows, hoping for an explanation. But Hermione was paying her no mind, lost in thought and clearly deliberating something.

As she raised her wand in the air, Hermione pictured the desired outcome in her head. She hoped she was right about this. Hermione Granger did not like to be wrong. Transfiguration done, she held her breath as she experimentally spun the dial once more.

"Yes!" She exclaimed, beside herself. Literally.

Lilly laughed excitedly, "Hermione! What did you do? It works!"

Hermione grinned, watching as her other-self disappeared. "There are three rings on the turner. Hours, minutes, and the small one that doesn't really turn—seconds."

"Of course. That makes perfect sense. Somehow the third ring balances it and makes it all... work." Lilly said with a smile, transfiguring her watch to have the seconds hand. "I really love having another smart female around." She said happily, "it's always exciting. Especially one who gets my drive to succeed, and even matches it."

"Same!" Hermione grinned, "Glad you're not dead!" She winked at the redhead, spinning the dial once more, "I'm going back to bed, help me catch up here will you?"

Lilly broke down into laughter, watching as Hermione finished with her calculating spins. "See you soon— later— oh, whatever. My turn next."

"Deal." Hermione winked, as she disappeared from sight.

————

_Later, back in Malfoy Manor_

_—_

Some time had undoubtedly passed, Lucius Malfoy thought groggily, as he sat up in his lavish bed in the dark room. Or, he reasoned, maybe it was simply the morning he was supposed to wake up to in the first place. Slowly, he made his way from the bed and into the washroom, where he checked that he was indeed alive, and not some kind of ghost.

Reassured, he made his way out into the house proper, recoiling as he saw the changes had indeed occurred in what he assumed to be the waking world. "Curious." He whispered, hearing it echo off the walls in the cavernous hallway. It was so silent the sound was almost jarring to his own ears. Eying every corner and cupboard warily, he crept along.

As he wandered, Lucius inspected the changes in his world. Marveling at how changed it was in such a short period of time, and at how it made him feel. Calmer, almost comforted. It was like a new slate. However, if all of this was real, then the awareness of such brought about a whole new set of questions and conflicts.

Why his wife and elves had pretended he did not exist, for one. And where was his son, Draco? As these questions flirted through his mind, a flash of platinum caught his attention through a pane of glass with a picturesque view of the garden. Doubling back, he saw his wife on a blue and white checkered blanket at the edge of the pond, fingering the water as she read from a book that was delicately perched on her lap.

Several elves were sunning themselves nearby, others were erecting a gauzy white canopy tent with a practiced ease, although Lucius had certainly never seen this particular tent before. Sighing wistfully, Lucius turned to make his way out of the house. "What am I getting myself into?" He wondered aloud, as he pushed open the front door of the manor, intent on finding some answers.

Wordlessly, he sauntered to the blanket his wife was atop, joining her without acknowledgment or invitation. He chuckled, amused at how good of a poker face his Narcissa had, although he wanted to grimace as the realization that she had probably gained the skill during the occupation of Lord Voldemort in Malfoy Manor.

"I know I'm not invisible, so why don't you tell me what's going on, love." Lucius whispered in her ear. She stopped at the sensation, but did not immediately respond. "Narcissa..." He prompted, his hand on her cheek gently maneuvering her to look at him.

With a sigh, she complied. "Everything is changed." She said mystically. A pointed stare from her husband led her to elaborate. "It's like everything about the world is suddenly different. My world, your world— our world. I'm... I'm afraid you'll want no part in the way I've come to see things."

"Oh?" He asked, brows drawn in confusion. "I see changes, yes. They're all around, fairly obvious, not altogether abhorrent. Yet somehow I feel as if I'm missing the bigger picture."

Narcissa nodded, hmming quietly. "The elves are different." She continued hesitantly, changing the subject slightly. "I quite like their renewed zest for life." Lucius chuckled, eying the creatures warily as his wife continued. "I've had some in depth discussion with them recently, and I've come to a few realizations. They are not slaves, Lucius. They are not pets, or playthings. I see them more as— children. As silly as it sounds, I've quite enjoyed their company recently and I've welcomed them into the family formally. Surprisingly, they are a lot more eager to please then they ever have been in the past."

It was Lucius' turn to hmm, as he was otherwise speechless. He had imagined any number of scenarios in the past day of solitude, but this was— unexpected. "And what would you ask of me?" He asked, finding his words.

"Play along," Narcissa said, shrugging her shoulders daintily. "I don't expect you to agree with my view, I don't even expect you to do so happily. But be nice to them, take it a day at a time and see how it goes. I think you'll be pleasantly surprised. But if you're not.." she paused, hesitant to finish the thought of what was on her mind, "If you're not then I will continue to do so on my own... although I'm not sure where that would leave you, as Draco is more then willing and able to take over as Lord of the manor."

Lucius clenched his jaw, determined not to speak out of anger. And yes, yes he was definitely angered at this development. But he was not the most unreasonable man these days... no, that title had been claimed by Thorpe Nott. Instead of snapping, or spewing a vile insult or slur, Lucius Malfoy gave a grimace-like smile and took a deep breath. "So the line in the sand has been drawn." He breathed, receiving a stiff nod in return. "Alright then. One day at a time. So long as you don't feign indifference towards my presence any longer."

"You're right, I should have just thrown a fit— or a few priceless vases." The blonde woman deadpanned, barely concealing a smirk.

Lucius snorted, anger quickly abating. "Cheeky witch." He said, drawing her in to an embrace, "You'll be the death of me yet. Merlin help me."

Internally, a sense of quiet disbelief at his own actions was blossoming, but he tried to hold it back. You see, Lucius Malfoy kept his word, especially to his wife. He would give it a few days, enough time for this flight of fancy to fly the metaphorical coop in Narcissa's mind. Although, he had a feeling that this particular "phase" might last longer than previously occurring ones.

His only solace was that maybe, just maybe, this concession would grant him enough of a boon from the blasted elves to get them to find a way into Gringotts. At least then he would have regained some semblance of normalcy in his life. But as Narcissa settled her head into his lap, raising her book once more, all other thoughts fled his mind.

————

In an unknown location, a strange device began to glow under thick a veil of spider webs. In the distance, a whoop of joy sounded, heavy footfalls echoing through the darkness. "It's almost time!" A brusque voice shouted, causing another whoop of joy to emit from somewhere slightly further off. "About time!" A lilting feminine voice answered sarcastically, "What now?"

A sigh could be heard, and a whispered response of "And now we wait some more. The echoing sound of the man's footsteps could once again be heard moving away from the darkened room, towards the area the second voice had come from. The glowing device, the only source of light or motion left in the room, began to change colors. It's kaleidoscopic rays casting color throughout the darkness, before slowly fading away once more.


	40. The-4th-Prophacy

————

Chapter 40

————

The 7 Prophecies of Merlin

-

IV

-

The Fourth Prophecy 

————

Oh, how the mighty had fallen. Once upon a time he was both respected and feared. He was known for his great and terrible deeds, his might, and his mind. Now, Salazar Slytherin was reduced to being merely another mediocre teacher at the great school he had helped found.

He sighed as he dipped his quill into the ink pot for what felt like the millionth time in the last hour. Thoughts racing, he tried unsuccessfully to focus on simply grading the papers before him. "They're all the same!" He exclaimed suddenly, throwing down his quill and standing up. Yes, something had to change. This was not what he wanted for his school. There was no... challenge, no spark.

From the time classes had started, Salazar had become aware of the strictly dictated schedule, the need for detailed class lessons and written tests. And for a while it was a nice change of pace, as it was easy to predict what was going to happen on any given day and time. But it was getting ridiculous. How were the students supposed to learn how to be real, productive members of society if they weren't given the space to make mistakes or discoveries?

Striding abruptly to the door, where he stopped only for the briefest of moments to grab his favorite hat, he vowed that he would restore his creation to her former glory. But first, his lady love needed to be brought into his plans. She was the sitting headmistress after all.

This thought caused old Sal to chuckle, "She has no idea what's coming." He shook his head as the door swung open before him, "I almost pity her, standing between me and my aspirations." Nodding to the familiar faces in the paintings he passed, Salazar Slytherin headed towards the headmistresses office with a spring in his step and a smile on his face.

————

At Grimmauld Place, Sirius found himself lying in bed well past the time he normally would have on any other day. As it was the weekend, he figured he could get away with it. It wasn't like he had any pressing plans scheduled.

Running a hand through his bedraggled hair, he ruminated over the events of the past week. Finding out Camelot was real was... amazing, overshadowed only by actually being in Camelot on a daily basis. Now that was just surreal.

As a small child, Sirius had fancied himself the perfect candidate to be a knight of the round table. He was just, and noble. Kind hearted. And then life happened. The harpy he called "mother" tried to groom him into a perfect pureblood, and he was so busy evading her ministrations, that —before he even realized it was happening —he had grown up. Knights and damsels forgotten, left somewhere on the wayside of his wayward childhood.

Yet, here he was. Camelot was real. The knights, the table. All of it. The story was a bit different this time around, but it was there! And he, Sirius Orion Black, had sat at the very bloody round table, even been named a knight in a way. Now the only question that remained was why, as all of his dreams seemed to be coming true, did he feel so empty inside? "I must be broken or something." He sighed to the empty room.

Current position becoming uncomfortable, the eldest Black sibling turned to lay on his other side. However, in doing so he may have misjudged his placement on the bed, as he suddenly found himself falling. It was only when he ceased to complete the fall that he suspected anything less than ordinary was at play. It was at that point that he came to a startling realization, and swore loudly.

Holding his hands to his face, Sirius hoped no one would be around when he got to wherever it was he was going. "I should really wear pants to bed." He mused aloud, before relaxing into the sensation of moving through the air. Being stuck in the veil had taught him much about this particular scenario. Namely that you don't have to like the feeling of free falling endlessly, but you have little power to stop it. Belatedly, Sirius was hoping that there was a damsel at the other end of this ordeal. He smirked in amusement as he drifted off into a state of half slumber.

————

_Meanwhile in Camelot_

—

"I have to admit," Lilly Potter declared, excitedly flitting around the laboratory, "we are bloody brilliant!" She beamed, turning to face her curly haired companion. "Did you ever imagine this scenario? In your wildest dreams, even?"

The brunette smirked and raised an eyebrow haughtily. "I am Hermione Granger. Of course I did!" She winked before dissolving into giggles. "It's absolutely surreal, you're right! I thought using a time turner was the most amazing thing I'd achieve, at one point. Then, you know, the war destroyed them and I thought maybe I could make a passable replica. At best."

Lilly tapped the watch on her wrist, as she stared at it in admiration. "But this... is truly something! Backwards in time, slowing time forwards, pausing it. It's like something out of a science fiction movie!"

"I just can't puzzle out why we can't manipulate them to move forwards in time yet." Hermione sighed dejectedly, her million watt smile dimming slightly. She paced from one end of the room to another, deep in thought, murmuring, "Why can't we go forward in time?"

A loud barking chuckle interrupted her diatribe. "The future doesn't exist, Granger." A voice full of amusement announced. Malfoy, Hermione discovered, was standing at the top of the staircase, happily munching on an apple. He smirked, shooting a wink her way, "I can finally say I figured out something that the Great Hermione Granger didn't know!"

Hermione flares at her former nemesis. Just when she thought he wasn't so bad, he had to go and open his big ferrety mouth and make her reconsider. "Explain" she demanded.

Nodding, Malfoy descended the steps slowly, while attempting to do just so. "Okay, Granger, can you eat a sandwich before it's made?"

"No?" Lilly answered the question, clearly puzzled.

Malfoy looked towards her, "Why?"

The redhead rolled her eyes, thinking on how asinine this conversation was. "It hasn't been made yet. If you are it before it was made you'd just be eating the ingredients, not the sandwich."

"Correct!" Malfoy announced, clapping heartily. "Time, I figure, I'd like a sandwich. We have all the ingredients around us for the next bit to be made... but we cannot experience them as 'the future' until the future is made, at which point it becomes the present. Just like you can't swim in a swimming pool before it's filled up, although the water and the pool itself currently exist. It's just not possible."

"I suppose even magic has its limits,"Lilly sighed while looking questioningly at

Hermione, who was standing there with a quizzical look on her face. The three wizards stood in silence until Hermione shrugged and walked briskly to the other side of the room.

The brunette tinkered with a half-made time turning watch, until she suddenly stilled and declared, "I don't think I can accept that explanation."

Amusement caused Draco Malfoy's eyes to crinkle, as he gasped out a laugh. "Because you can't accept failure? Oh, okay, I'll bite. Tell me why I'm wrong."

"You're not, in theory." Hermione said after a beat, rolling her eyes as the distasteful words left her mouth. "It is entirely possible that we can not go forward into yet unmade deaths of time. However— the turners wont move forward through time that has already been experienced either." She stood and steepled her fingers, "Using your sandwich as an example. You can eat a sandwich before making it, if it's already been made when you get it."

"So moving forward should theoretically be possible, if you're going back to somewhere— or somewhen you've already been." Draco mused, copying her pose and steepling his own fingers. "You'd need... a place marker of some type, like a tether. But how to achieve that is a bit beyond me."

Lilly gasped, looking excited, "Like a portkey! Something that can be set to a specific location."

"Brilliant!" Draco chortled, obviously impressed. "I think you ladies can handle it from here." He stated smugly, before walking from the room once more, leaving a pair of confounded witches in his wake.

Hermione shook her head, waves cascading around her, "A helpful Malfoy. The world must be ending!" She mused, causing the other woman to laugh as well. "Back to the drawing board, I suppose. You up to the task?"

"I'm deeply insulted you even have to ask." Lilly responded, mock pouting. She waved a hand, gesturing for Hermione to follow her to the workstation she had set up. "You know, James is rather good with portkeys." Lilly mused, shuffling through a stack of books she had laid out earlier that morning.

Hermione shot the other witch a knowing look, "Missing him on his day off, eh?" She asked, raising her eyebrows as if daring Lily to deny the charge.

Laughing, Lilly rolled her eyes. "I suppose that may also be true, but he did some work on them in his Auror days. Hated them so much he began toying around with the spell work. Judging by the fact he stopped complaining, I'd say he either figured out a way to fix it— or he got used to it. But knowing James... he doesn't really get used to things that bug him."

"Reminds me of another Potter male!" Hermione commented wryly, "Summon your wayward lover madam. But no funny business!" She declared, with as much of a straight face as she could manage.

"Wouldn't dream of it." Lilly smirked, conjuring her patronus and firing off a message for her husband. "Wayward lover!" She giggled, playfully smacking Hermione in the arm. Hermione shrugged, and began reading the text Lilly had spread before her.

Portkeys, in and of themselves, weren't that terribly complicated to create. It was the integration of the time mechanism, and linking it to a specific time and space that would be the difficult part. Hermione ran through all the scenarios in her head.

They could, she thought, link it to the watch, and have it activate when the dial is triggered. But it may have to be reset every time. Inconvenient, but she supposed it was doable. Alternately, they could put the sand in the tethering object— somehow. "This is so much harder than charming them to go backwards!" She pouted aloud.

Lilly made a muffled sound of agreement, while jotting notes on a piece of paper. Lost in her own thoughts on the subject, the red headed witch barely even registered her husband barging into the room.

"Sirius is gone!" James shouted, appearing out of breath. This snapped both witches into paying attention. James took a deep breath before explaining, "Moony and I had double checked he was at Grimmauld before we set to rigging a prank. It was supposed to go off when he got out of bed, but it didn't. And he's not there."

Hermione raised an eyebrow, "How do you know your prank just didn't work? Surely Sirius knows to expect these things by now." She reasoned.

James nodded, seeing where she was coming from. "Well, we thought of that... until we noticed he left his pants behind. Oh, and our patroni don't go anywhere when we try to send a message to him. That's the more worrying of the two."

That fact send a shiver of dread down Hermione's spine. "But that only happens if..." she shook her head, "well, he could be somewhere that magic doesn't work, or doesn't know how to get to."

"I'm sure there's a logical explanation!" Lilly said sternly, looking between her friend and her husband. "Maybe he just has a new lady friend, who happens to have a secret magic deadening love dungeon?" She cracked a smile, attempting to lighten the mood.

Unfortunately, James didn't see the humor in the current situation, and fixed his loving wife with a glare. "Something feels wrong." He insisted, looking between the two females to gauge if they were taking him seriously or not.

Hermione slowly set down the watch she had been fiddling with. If the rarely solemn marauder was this somber, then the situation surrounding Sirius must be, well, serious. She sighed, deciding that their current project would have to wait. Pulling her wand, Hermione sent a message to Regulus and Kreacher to come as soon as they were able. If anyone could locate Sirius, it would be them.

Relieved, James relaxed his stance minutely. "Thank you." He whispered, collapsing into a chair, wand in hand, and proceeding to cast one unsuccessful patronus after another. Lilly simply watched in silence, as her husband looked more and more dejected.

About 15 and a half patroni later, Regulus strode into the room, a worried expression marring his aristocratic face. "What's wrong?" He asked hurriedly, searching Hermione for signs that she was hurt, or emotionally distraught in any way. Finding nothing, his look settled into one of confusion. "You're okay, right love?"

Hermione nodded, as James flung himself from the chair in a blur of motion. "Sirius is missing!" He yelled, crashing into a very surprised Kreacher who had picked just that moment to appear from thin air in the middle of the lab. Quickly, Kreacher snapped his fingers, stopping them both from falling to the ground in a heaping tangle of limbs and other such bits.

Regulus wasn't sure how to react first. Laughing at the scene before him, was high on the list, but his concern for his brother was right up there with it. Instead he settled for the pureblood way of handling emotions. Raising an eyebrow delicately, he simply drawled, "explain." At which point James, still suspended in mid air, repeated the story he had relayed to Hermione and Lilly moments before.

Before James could even finish speaking, Regulus had his wand out, conforming what James claimed was indeed the truth. Kreacher quickly righted James, before testing out a few theories of his own.

Several tense moments passed in silence before Kreacher, gritting his teeth, reappeared. "He's alive..." the elf began haltingly. "But trying to manifest myself to wherever he is felt like getting rug burn while rolling in a barrel of sandpaper filled with glass."

Regulus raised his eyebrows at the explanation given, while the ever impatient James flung himself to his knees shrieking, "What does it mean?!". A question that Kreacher only responded to with a shrug of his shoulders and an unintelligible grunt.

"But he's alive?" Hermione questioned, and upon a brief nod from the elf in question, shook her head up and down slowly. "Well, that's a start." She breathed, "Could you try again later just to see if there's been a change?"

Just as Kreacher was about to bemoan the certainty of pain in his near future,Lilly gasped and cut in, "In the meantime— we could try to warn him, couldn't we?" She dangled a watch from her hand, swinging it gently in the air. Without waiting for a response, she turned the dial, disapperating as she did so.

"I do so love that witch when she gets like that!" James sighed dreamily, drawing his wand to follow his wife into his best friends room. Chuckling to himself at how awkwardly dirty that thought sounded in his head, he disappeared.

Hermione, left alone with the grumpy elf, and Regulus, stared at the later with a sudden feeling of dejavu. She rolled her eyes and threw up her hands, exclaiming, "this has Merlin written all over it, doesn't it?"

Suddenly slack jawed, Regulus nodded slowly. "We could alert Kingsley, and ask that he confirm our suspicion if another of the prophecy orbs begins to act strange." He suggested, "at least that way we would have a chance of knowing if we're on the right path here." His witch nodded her agreement, and Regulus set off to see the minister. Some things were best discussed in private, after all.

Kreacher slunk off at some point between Hermione's revelation, and Regulus' departure, hoping against hope that he wasn't called upon to maim himself again that day. However, Hermione was so caught up in her thoughts that she didn't notice this fact until she noticed that the room was entirely too quiet. She wondered what was taking Lily and James so long to return.

————

_An hour earlier, Sirius' Room, Grimmauld Place_

A devious looking Lilly Potter appeared in the darkened room. She opened her mouth to yell something undoubtedly brilliant, that would cause Sirius to bolt upright when she reappeared, but never got the chance to utter a word. James had grabbed a hold of her from behind, at the exact second she let go of the dial, and was thus transported along with her.

He had been trying, unsuccessfully to get her attention since they arrived in the past, but up until this moment had not directly interfered. With a soft pop he apparated them outside the door of Sirius' room and proceeded to throw up a silencing spell around them. "Pants!" He yelled, helpfully, as soon as he was sure it was safe. Lilly cocked a brow, unsure of what the problem was.

James cringed, "Lilly, Sirius left his pants behind. Merlin! He. Is. Not. Wearing. Pants!" He exploded, eyes wide and face reddening. "Do you really want to experience that side of Sirius?!"

Horrified, Lilly swallowed air trying to form a response. "I-I-I... didn't think about that." She admitted haltingly, "I was so caught up in potentially getting revenge for all the years of pranking, while warning him that I—" suddenly, a commotion could be heard on the other side of the door, cutting off Lilly's monologue.

Together, they rushed into the room, only to find themselves alone. "Bloody hell." James sighed, "He's gone."

"See, James, I wouldn't have had time to experience Sirius." Lilly joked, battling the worry gnawing at her stomach. "On the bright side, at least we know he was unharmed when he left."

James looked affronted, "He was kidnapped, Lilly, kidnapped!" Lilly just rolled her eyes, as she began casting diagnostic spells to see what could have happened to their friend.

"Nothing remotely dark." The readhead announced moments later, "In fact, I'm not coming up with anything other than the ripples from our arrival..."

James squinted confusedly at his wife in the dim room. "You mean to tell me that he was, what, portkeyed away or something?" He asked incredulously, trudging over to slump onto the bed. "For what—by who— I just... I mean, what do we do now?"

Head into his hands, he collapsed into himself in defeat. Lilly, watched wordlessly, never having seen her husband quite like this. That was saying something, as they'd weathered a war together. Quietly, she crept to his side, placing a hand on his shoulder. "And now, she breathed, we fight."

"Fight what?," James sighed, "There's nothing here. We failed. With no more answers to speak of!"

Lilly chuckled at his petulant expression, "We fight fire with Fire." She said, "We had an idea, of using the turners with some type of portkey like anchor. That's why we needed your big head this morning. To try and puzzle that out. If we can achieve that goal, then we could potentially catch Sirius well before this whole ordeal. At which point we could return to our present time, and he would have the option of figuring out what he wants to do from there."

Hopeful, James looked up, "Okay, then we need to get back to the lab. I'll have this figured out in no time Lillyflower. Also, I'm ignoring the comment about my big head. It's perfectly normal sized, and you love it." Holding out his hand, he apparated them back to Camelot as she rolled her eyes at his final comment.

Had they stuck around a single moment longer, they would have broken the only rule of time turner use. But as it was, the sleepy form of James Potter came barreling around the corner, oblivious to the fact that his future self had already experienced the horror of finding his best mate had disappeared.

————

Once back in Camelot, James and Lilly scoured the library for books that may help them in anchoring a portkey with a time turner. As it had never been done before, they didn't expect to find an instruction manual, which they did not, so their stack was limited to mostly theory on anchoring spells, the workings of the floo network, apparition, and the like. Anything that could prove useful, while they waited for their current selves to depart for the past.

Surprisingly, the tomes they had selected had given them enough information to formulate a couple different plans, and thus by the time they were safe to return to the lab, James was confident that they had the answer to their current predicament in their sights. "Let's do this!" He exclaimed, popping from the room. A grinning Lilly rolled her eyes, grinning fondly, before following her husband.

————

When Lilly reappeared, the lab was eerily silent. She panicked, for a brief moment, until in the far corner of the room she spotted signs of life.

Hermione, biting her lip as she often did, was staring with no small amount of fascination, as James waved his wand fluidly through the air in a series of intricate maneuvers. As the objects in front of him began to glow, James began to mutter lowly, causing Lilly to hurry up and join in on the fun.

The chant, which is what the muttering was actually supposed to be, was in some form of old Gaelic. Lilting, and guttural, their words sounded most dangerous. And yet, with Lilly's saccharine sweet tone, it soon transformed into something more like a lovers empassioned arguement. Which, by all accounts, was pretty close to the truth. The words were all but demanding the universe to go against its own rules and tether a moment in time to a very real, very singular point in space. To marry them, so to speak.

As the words flew more rapidly, the glowing increased. By the time they'd reached a fever pitch, James and Lilly were almost screaming, and nearly blinded by the unbelievable brightness before them. Hermione could do nothing but stare, open mouthed in amazement, as her friends breathed rapidly, trying to keep up with their own frenzied tempo. Until, suddenly, the light seemed to explode and the chant ended with one last scream.

The silence that followed nearly echoed. As Hermione stood blinking, James and Lilly shuffled to their feet. Having somehow being thrown to the floor in the madness. As concerned as she was, the curly haired witch could not keep herself from asking, "So, uh, a bit late to ask this, but— what exactly was that?"

Grinning tiredly, James pinned her with a serious look, "Sirius' salvation, I hope." He reached out, cradling the object in his hands. Holding it out for Hermione's inspection, he held his breath as she studied it intently.

The curly haired witch gasped, eyeing her best friends father with disbelief. "The arch?" She questioned sharply, "You want the thing that held Sirius captive in time to be his saving grace?"

"It's not the real one!" James chuckled, "But I think it has a certain amount of poetic justice to it. Plus, I wanted the object to be large enough to be a good tether— it's shrunken now, of course. That being said, it also had to be functional." He searched the room, eyes flitting from here to there in pursuit of the perfect spot for his creation. "There!" He breathed, pointing, "we put it at the base of the stairs, like it was supposed to be part of the architecture. Lilly could tie it in real nice, I'm sure."

Hermione looked incredulous, "And if someone or something other than Sirius is able to use it, what then? Just let them peruse all of what we do here?"

"Let me." Lilly whispered, placing a hand on James' arm, before turning to Hermione and steeling herself for the reaction she knew would come before the understanding kicked in. "That won't, or rather can't happen. James has set a fail safe. I didn't like it at first, but I do see the necessity in it now. It's both passcode and blood activated."

Hermione turned white, as the blood rushed from her face. She appeared to be counting down from a hundred, but may have been going over eviscerating spells... you never could really be sure with that one. "I see." She grit out through her teeth.

"Anyone could activate a passcode, and do exactly as you said. We don't want people traipsing about the lab. Also, to make sure the right person is using the portwatch, watchport, turnport— whatever we will be calling it— it had to be something that couldn't be faked. Thus... blood." James explained, shrugging, "Give your standard, self selected passcode, and the turner activates a blood test. If the test matches, you're sent through to the portal."

Hermione raised an eyebrow. "And if it doesn't?," she queried, glancing sideways at her red headed friend.

"We were thinking of some sort of holding cell." Lilly answered quickly, "One that Bill has warded to high heaven."

Sighing tiredly, Hermione rubbed her eyes "It has merit," she admitted, "but does it work?" Toying with the watch on her wrist, she wondered who would be the lucky test subject. And what that would entail.

"Care to find out?" James grinned, smirking. "We need to calibrate the turner to the passcode and blood test, if you want to try it personally."

"Your idea, you get to be the guinea pig, Potter." Hermione chuckled darkly, causing James to pale and gulp. He nodded tensely, muttering to the watch handed to him by his wife. A brief flinch, and it was over. Silently, he turned the dial a fraction of a turn, hearing the pair wish him "good luck"on his journey as he departed.

Arriving in the same space mere minutes before, he watched himself have the conversation with Hermione. Thankfully he had managed to place himself somewhere in the room that was not noticeable to their former selves. Turning the dial a fraction of a turn forward, he muttered his selected passcode and felt himself hurling through. Time and space.

It wasn't quite like apparating, there was no squeezing feeling, no blankness. He could actually see things happening around him, just incredibly slowly and kind of blurred. His body drug him, albeit in a kind of floating manner, to the arch. And there he stopped, with an almost reverberating feeling in his body. As if he had been a rubber band, stretched too thin before being snapped. "I think it works." He murmured, before everything went black.

——————

Back in the mind numbing sea of blackness, Sirius was snoozing peacefully. Until, suddenly, he wasn't. Jolting awake, he became aware of his change in circumstances just as the floor of a dark room, briefly as it was filled with a strange flashing light, came up to meet him. He landed with an oof. "Bloody hell," Sirius wheezed, trying to regain his composure, "What a way to wake up."

He searched in vain for something to cover himself with, more than conscious of his current state of nakedness. Sooner than he would have liked, however, that became the least of his worries. A shuffling sound made him aware that he was not alone in this place. A shuffling sound that was growing closer.

Resignedly, he steeled himself for confrontation. And yet, the source of the shuffling passed him by. The strange flash of lights illuminated the room once more, and in its faint glow, Sirius saw the outline of a pile of clothing. Not one to look a gift horse in the mouth, Sirius scrambled to it, grabbing the first thing that didn't feel lacy or dress like and thrusting it over his head.

As he did so, something came rolling out of the pile. In the next glow of the lights, Sirius saw it appeared to be a crystal orb, and it was headed right for him. He barely had time to breathe in a gasp of shock when it barreled into his bare foot. "Bloody..." and then he was sucked into it.

————

Once the world had stopped spinning, Sirius Black found himself in a familiar room. He had been there before, surrounded by the same stone facade at Emery's castle, only on a much less somber day. One that he participated in willingly, and with honor. As such, seeing the young, dark haired, blue eyed wizard before him, Sirius began yelling immediately.

"Just what do you think you're doing?" He raged, "Kidnapping? Really? Who do you think you are, Merlin?!" He pointed a finger menacingly at the man, and found himself even more enraged at the lack of reaction he received.

The man stood there, blue eyes twinkling in a very Dumbledoresque manner, as Sirius continued to rage unintelligibly. Folding his arms idly, the man appeared to be waiting for something, and when Sirius had finally ran out of breath and stopped speaking with a huff and a pronounced stomp, the man opened his mouth. "If you are quite finished," he began, with a wink, "welcome, sir knight, I'm sorry for the circumstances you are about to find yourself in, but I'm afraid it cannot be helped. For the greater good, it is a thing of necessity."

He appeared to have a somber thought, but shrugged it off before continuing. "In any fight there must be sacrifices, as I'm sure you are aware. This is no exception. It saddens me that one of my loves own progeny must pay the price for my mis..." the man's words trailed off suddenly, as his eyes clouded over. With a changed voice he began again.

"_From Merlin's mouth, _

_Flows both truth and lies._

_To find the former you must defy_

_The odds, the plan, or time itself._

_The later even he can't tell. _

_Oh, firstborn son of those dark as night._

_The second best despite birthright._

_Your battle is fraught with trials a plenty,_

_Both friends and foes may fall._

_Just when you think the burden too heavy,_

_An ally will come to call._

_All alone, though surrounded,_

_The lightest of the Blacks._

_They seek to take you from the fight,_

_As with your power they would never last._

_Do not despair, ye pure of heart,_

_Lost as it may be._

_Alone is not your destined status._

_Wait for her, you will see._

_A side quest, _

_Found through bending time._

_A broken branch repaired._

_A heart of ice,_

_Melts at the touch,_

_Of one who once despaired. _

_And through the branch, _

_The tree of vines,_

_Once tangled,_

_Comes undone._

_Once bridges burned_

_Have been repaired,_

_The future can be won_."

Merlin, gasping, shook his head as if to clear it. "What was I saying? Oh, yes. Morgana will be angry when she finds out what I have done. But rest assured, sir knight, I won't harm you. I just need you out of the way. Forgive me?" He asked, looking quite contrite.

As this was not an interactive conversation, Sirius didn't bother to answer. He was too busy trying to process both Merlin's concerning words, and those of the prophecy he had just been delivered. "Hermione got a kingdom, the twins got a castle, Harry... well, I'm not sure what exactly what his prophecy means yet, but I'm sure it was more than 'you're lonely, fight and you'll find a damsel in distress'." He groaned and sank to the floor as the scene from the prophecy faded around him. Once more in the darkened room, Sirius scooted into a corner where he could safely monitor anyone who may be coming through the doorway.

———

In the lab, Regulus and James were arguing about who should get to play the hero this time. Regulus believed it was his job, as Sirius' brother, to deliver the means for Sirius to save himself from whatever situation he had gotten himself into. James, as Sirius' best mate and brother in every way but blood, felt like the duty should fall to him. Plus, as James was so quick to point out, it was his wondrous work that made all of this possible in the first place.

They were so caught up in their posturing that they didn't notice Kreacher had popped into the room, promptly rolling his eyes, before doing what they should have been doing in the first place: rescuing Sirius. Of course, the elf had had help in this little mission. The impatient girls had explained the whole process to him downstairs before sending him to end the proverbial test of wills between their two wizards.

Ritual complete, Kreacher headed to the past to warn Sirius and deliver the instructions to activate the portal key, as they were calling it. A task that the elf found quite easy, as he had written the instructions down on a charmed piece of paper Bill and Hermione had developed precisely for such sensitive information. All he had to do was place a drop of blood on the key, and hope Sirius recalled how to read a parchment. Shaking his head at the idiocy that constantly surrounded him, Kreacher woke a sleeping Sirius and tried, in vain, to express all the needed information before he was spirited away. An event that happened so quickly the elf could do nothing but gasp before the eldest Black sibling disappeared before his eyes, the scroll of parchment affixed to a string around his neck.

Wearily, he activated the passcode on his portal key and returned to the present. The feeling of snapping back to the correct time eliciting a sharp intake of breath that finally managed to get the attention of the quarreling wizards he had left behind only moments ago.

They stared at him in shock, eyes moving from him to the key in his hands in quick succession before they exchanged heated glares then promptly burst into laughter.

"Well played Kreacher." Regulus laughed heartily, "Alright?"

Kreacher nodded and shrugged, "didn't have much time, and Sirius is a fairly heavy sleeper. I did manage to place the key and instructions to use it around his neck before he was spirited away. Now let's just hope he realizes something is there."

Slumping to the floor, James buried his head in his hands. "He will... eventually." He lamented, "but we may be here a while." The other two men nodded solemnly as silence filled the space.

—————

Hunched amongst the darkness, Sirius thought over plans for escape. The fact that he was wandless didn't leave him many options other than leaving the room and hoping there was an exit conveniently waiting out of sight of anyone that happened to be here. The fact that Merlin had been apologetic in the prophecy he had just witnessed made him believe that he wouldn't be quite so lucky. This was Merlin after all— the Merlin!

He scratched his chest thoughtlessly, trying to rid himself of the annoying tickling feeling he'd been trying to ignore since the prophecy had spat him back out, only to have his had brush up against an unexpected obstacle. "Weird," Sirius mused in a whisper, "I don't remember having any jewelry on."

Briefly, he pondered the chances of the new necklace he was sporting being some unexpected result of the prophecy. Maybe something containing a grand estate or some legacy of awesomeness. Hopes that had risen were dashed upon further inspection of the trinket. It was a miniature scroll, written in a familiar hand. "Kreacher..." He sighed halfway between content and anxious at what this might mean.

The scroll, when unrolled, proved to be far more than he could have hoped for. Thanking every lucky object he had ever even heard of, Sirius stood with a purpose, and proclaimed "I solemnly swear I'm up to no good!". This was said a bit louder than it probably should have been, considering the tremendous rush of footsteps that immediately followed the outburst. Before anyone could come into sight, however, Sirius was -simply- gone.

————


End file.
